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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29592231">OH, LUNA DEAREST</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/whorehotline/pseuds/whorehotline'>whorehotline</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Tragedy, Aromantic Regulus Black, Canon Compliant, Child Abuse, Drug Use, Explicit Language, Family Issues, Female Marauders (Harry Potter), Feminist Themes, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Good Regulus Black, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Female Character of Color, LGBTQ Themes, Lesbian Marlene McKinnon, Marauders, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Marauders Friendship (Harry Potter), Mental Health Issues, Minor James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Minor Marlene McKinnon/Dorcas Meadowes, Minor Remus Lupin/Original Male Character(s), Multi, Non-Explicit Sex, POV Female Character, POV Original Female Character, Peter Pettigrew is a Marauder, Physical Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Canon, Realistic, Regulus Black Lives, Requited Love, Slow Burn, Tragedy, Young Peter Pettigrew</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 01:15:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>86,020</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29592231</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/whorehotline/pseuds/whorehotline</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>❛ as long as we  𝗗𝗢𝗡'𝗧 𝗗𝗜𝗘, this is going<br/>to be one hell of a story! ❜</p><p>━━━━━━━━━━━━━━<br/>Circa 1975; the marauders are at their peak, Hogwarts is still laced with lightness, and Marella Bardot has just had her life topped upside down. What the girl doesn't know is that the moment her feet grace the cobbled steps of Britain, her life will alter in the most chaotic way possible. What the girl doesn't know is that the moment she comes face to face the marauders, she will seal her future in bleeding ink (not to mention the bite mark scraped across her arm). What the girl doesn't know is that by making Hogwarts her home, she would welcome in the bad, the good, the ugly, and the downright embarrassing. </p><p>What nobody knows is that war is approaching, demise is near, and the world the students have painted in vibrant colours of mischief and destruction would come crumbling down. Piece by piece, little by little, until all that remained was memories.</p><p>But its totally fine, they'd make it out alive......right?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sirius Black/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. life after death</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>timeline is a little fucked up—<br/>•marauders become animagis just before fourth year (crucial to the plot line)<br/>•Reggie is only 1year younger than Sirius (I initially thought it was one &amp; to change it, i’d have to erase a lot of story)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <em>" Ravenous nights spent underneath the burn of a full-moon to days </em>
</p><p>
  <em>soaked in the bliss of unforeseen friendship, </em>
</p><p>
  <em>it was clear Marella Bardot was about to fuck up history. "</em><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em>___________________________________________________________________</em>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>( EXTENDED SUMMARY )</em> </b>
</p><p>  𝗦𝗛𝗘 𝗪𝗔𝗦 𝗥𝗔𝗜𝗦𝗘𝗗 𝗧𝗢 be something evil, spindled from the lace of prejudicial views and abuse, she was supposed to follow her recent lineage into a path of hatred, but everything she had been groomed towards would abruptly come crashing down on her, altering her life for better or worse. Marella Bardot was a blazing fire, an eruption so vivid your eyes were instinctively drawn to her, and from the root of one werewolf bite upon her pale arm, to the clandestine glances she shared with another blood-traitor alike, she would truly realise how it felt to love with all of her heart, and consequently loose everything.</p><p>    Life was cruel, but Marella Bardot was <strong><em>𝑐𝑟𝑢𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑟</em></strong></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>NOTICE ! </p><p>I do not stand with JK Rowling, her behaviour is disgusting &amp; completely disrespectful to the trans community! </p><p>
  <em>Important links below to petitions:</em>
</p><p>- https://morepetitions.carrd.co</p><p>- https://linktr.ee/its_hot.outside</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong><em>(ch1): "WE WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO BE HEROS,</em> </strong><br/>
<strong> <em>WE WERE JUST KIDS"</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>________________________________________________________</em>
  </strong>
</p><p> </p><p> </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p> </p>
</blockquote><p> </p><p><b><em>( </em></b><em>1993, post wizarding war I. </em><b><em>) </em></b><br/>
<b>MARELLA WAS SLOWLY DROWNING </b>in bitter darkness, the cold wash of familiar faces soaking her murky insides, forcing her to remember each minor detail that grazed their complexion, to feel every gut-wrenching memory which was now lost in the spiral of time, reminding her there was nothing she could do to save the lives already lost. Her mind was an artist, able to trace each of them to extreme accuracy, creating a sorrowful piece of art holding the family she'd accumulated once — from each mark curving their dead structures, to their piercing smiles she'd once treasured in her now-shrivelled heart.</p><p>    Marella longed to shut her eyes, to border herself around towering walls and blocking intimate ghosts from ever entering her head again, but that was impossible, merely a dream she would never receive — for as long as she breathed, she would carry the burden of their fate on her own, blood-stained hands.</p><p>    She was a lost pilgrim, lurking the earth with the infectious disease of death on her debilitated shoulders, though she hardly moved now. Strained to her messy apartment, which consisted of ashy cigarettes and bottles of empty liquor, tiny specks of litter which scattered themselves across the dim-lighted space, and with time, she had soon found herself making friends with the darkness. There was a sense of serenity among it, and while most feared what laid beneath the blanket of pure, divine light, Marella had long stopped caring, and in brutal honesty, she preferred the shadows. The strokes of black intertwined themselves around her lacerated skin, stringing her further into the abyss, as if she were a piece of meat prey had just caught, and maybe was, but it didnt seem to matter, because at least she wasn't alone anymore.</p><p>    A mad woman, that's what people had taken to calling her, whether it was from the various strangers who banged at her wooden door, shouting prejudice slurs and other words she'd heard all before, or as she merely crossed the street, head down low, desperate to slip into a state of invisibility. Albeit she wasn't insane just yet, and while some would call that an accomplishment, to keep their brain stable after enduring what she did, Marella would sternly disagree — the idea of being mad not so scary after all, because at least then she wouldn't care about all the pain and torture she'd been succumbed through, mental and psychical <b><em>(</em></b> though it needn't matter, one was just as bad as the other <b><em>)</em></b>.</p><p>    She had left Hogwarts in her earlier youth with blazing ambition, yearning to change the morbid world her family had helped taint, to prove she wasn't like them, an off-spring yet to marry into prejudice. But she'd failed, just as she failed her chosen family, the calamitous events she'd allowed to happen polluting her mind with raw, painful macabre. The fire which had once burned vividly in the Bardot, crisping away at anyone who dared to cross her path, was now nothing — like a candle finally flickering out, her wick keeling over in brutal exhaustion.</p><p>    For the first few months after life had came tumbling down, suffocating her underneath the weight of a hefty past,  the only thing left of the girl was the memories carved into her mind, which were deemed ceaseless, replaying themselves like an old VHS tape, rewinding until she finally capitulated into sleep - exhaustion hitting her with its relentless force, greeting her to sudden states of unconsciousness. She had slept and slept and slept, until her eyes couldn't shut, till her body cried to move, until her flesh was laced with wounds from endlessly laying.</p><p>    The only time when she wasn't thinking of them was when she thinking of him, no not the man she'd loved, that was far too delicate to bring up, but the man....<em>monster</em> who had really killed her family, stolen them within his cold grasp, crushed them between his porcelain fingers until they were nothing more than ashes of vivid souls who once held the gift of existence. Marella wasn't scared to say his name, in fact she said it often, a routine amongst cluttered mess she never missed, repeating it in her mirror every night before exhaustion took over. It had first arose when she wanted to be taken away, to join them amongst the dead, impatiently awaiting from him to hear her beckon, to snatch her skin up and rip it into little shreds until there was  nothing more left of her than crumbs on the floor not even mice would touch.</p><p>    But as the clock spun, and the last spark of fire ignited within her insides, she began to speak it for a different reason entirely, to spit at his unruly face without having to truly look at him, because she wasn't scared anymore — what was there to be scared of, when everything she had was gone?</p><p>    As her slender body stood in the familiar hallway, it's walls still towering as they had done years ago, she felt happiness for a short spike of the moment before becoming engulfed with sadness — everyone was gone, an indignant thought she could never escape. She had once ran down these hallways, infused on buzzing adrenaline as her fingers overlapped anothers, the late night before them being merely their last worry.</p><p>    She could still feel her hands clutch in his, tightly wrapped as if they were about to loose eachother, which she supposed was the truth. This was the boy she had loved, the boy she had displayed raw acts of vulnerability with, who had shifted her life into a brightened light. But now he was gone, a monster they'd taken to call him, whether it was the newspapers or the old face of her best friend. Marella didn't know what to think, unable to imagine the same man who had traced his fingers over the most insecure parts of her body in love, was capable of murder.</p><p>    Her skin elongated across her aching muscles like a worn canvas, battered and broken to look at. Her hair was ratted now, though it piled into a loose ponytail, making it look somewhat presentable. Her lips were cracked, splintering across the centre with a constant wound. The scar stained her mouth like crimson blood, the same blood which would sometimes seep out from it with sharp agonising pain. Bones poked from her ribs, as if they were going to disintegrate the layer of flesh above them, now creating a slender figure of a woman. Like a corpse who was not yet dead, but neither alive. Limbo, she supposed.</p><p>    Her battered hand reached out, palm pressing against a stoned wall, feeling all of the bricks which piled to create a structure. From just the sense of the familiar feeling, she was taken back to the countless moments she'd been pressed up against this wall - whether it was when her lips met the boy's she once knew, or as she attempted to disguise herself from an incoming teacher. It didn't matter which one triggered her the most, for they both held themselves deeply within her chest, casting a singular tear down her pale face.</p><p>    The salty rivulet stung into her wounded face, burning like repulsive acid as it weaved its way into the open cuts her complexion held. In that moment she wanted to collapse onto the floor, bundle herself up into a tight ball and never re-emerge. To let herself succumb to the past, sinking into pure nothingness on the floor she had once pressed her feet up against, once walked down - when everything was good, and no life was yet to be lost. A sense of deja vu had swept over her, as the ghosts of her past paraded around her and within her, a guileful reminder of the epoch she had spent here, leaving her in a silent daze of inner-agony.</p><p>    Marella was tired, not the habitual type that every human feels, but the type one only feels after every ounce of hope has been drained from them; as if their mind and body was leaking out electricity, slowly shrinking them into a pile of discombobulated bones. She stood there, eyes staring at a plain wall, a futile tussle of conflicting thoughts spinning in her mind. Though her brain didn't make much sense in that moment; disorientated from not only the intimate place around her, but from the repercussions of a full moon.</p><p>    Lycanthropy, just another burden piled onto the ever-growing plate Marella seemed to possess, throwing her further down the spiral of murk. The venoming bite stood perceptibly on her lower left arm, marked by the mouth of her previous-friend. She'd only been young when she accumulated it, just as the boy who'd given her the infection had been.</p><p>    "Miss Bardot, I'm surprised to see you here, I would've assumed you knew the way to my office by now." a distant voice spoke, shaking her core with the familiarity of its tone. She didn't need to turn to know who was behind her, she knew exactly who the evil man within her presence was.</p><p>     Marella's head flickered around, sadness sinking into her flesh as anger overtook her, "Dumbledore." his name left her tongue with poison, spitting itself into the air as if it was going to infect the atmosphere around them, and maybe it was. "Have you ever thought, I might just not of wanted to come?" the darkness her eyes held latched onto the pupils of the man before her, blowing out the relentless twinkle his pupils showcased.</p><p>    His face remained still, no emotion peaking through his ageing skin, but Marella could taste his fear. "And why would that be?" he questioned her, prying out information, eager to push her into an outburst which would only deem her crazy.</p><p>    "Because I dont feel like doing your bidding today." her lips moved fluently, "It was James and Lily last time, im not going to be the next lamb you slaughter."</p><p>    "I didn't kill the Potters, that you know miss Bardot." Dumbledore began to say, his shoulder standing tall with authority, trying to gain control over the mentally unstable woman before him. But that's what old white men do, <em>dont they</em>? Succumb anyone viewed weaker to internal darkness, pulling out their paintbrush and marking them with bitter lies. Though he couldn't finish his words, because she had interrupted him mid-sentence, anger dripping from her mouth-"Yes because Sirius Black, the boy who hated his family decided one day, after years of abuse from his contradicting views, to kill some of the only people who had ever loved him. On the basis of blood supremacy." she wasnt entirely sure if the boy had infact done the crime, unable to tell what truly was the truth anymore, but she wasnt about to let the man soaked in corruption tell her what to think. So she took a step forward, "Make it make sense <em>Albus</em>." she thus snarled.</p><p>    "Miss Bardot you need to calm down, control your emotions." he spoke softly, the manipulation she had always known to grow inside him setting alight. His words had been a feeble attempt at belittling her, to gain the upper hand, because she had always proved as a threat to him, and while they may of worked in the past - they most certainly didn't anymore.</p><p>    "No Albus, I think <em>you</em> need to calm down. Haven't you gotten sick of exploiting kids, infact don't answer that, we both know you haven't. Hows Harry?" her eyes slanted, eyebrows crumpling as she launched a spoken missile at him.</p><p>    "Miss Bardot-" he raised his voice, tongue slipping out every letter of her name with force. But still, she wasn't threatened by him, he couldn't expel her now. So she merely ignored him, breaking his dialogue once more-"I'm sure you know who Harry is, <em>my</em> godson who you shipped off into the hands of abusers, and are now using as a tool to defeat the dark lord." she stepped closer, repulsed at the old man before her. "A child, Albus, let me remind you of that."</p><p>    He dodged the question, "I'm loosing my patience, I summoned you here for a reason." Marella could feel him attempting to get into her head, and while he was good at occlumency, Marella was better. So her voice hit the air again-"Ah yes, you summoned me." she spat with bitter sarcasm, "Because I just follow to your <em>beckoning</em> call, right Albus?" she yelled this time, " <em>No</em>, I dont. And frankly, I lost <em>my</em> damn patience a long time ago. So go on, paint me as the mad woman, it wouldn't be the first time."</p><p>    "<em>Marella Bardot</em>, I need your help." he declared, the sound escaping his mouth blaring with strength and power - a shockwave which could crumple the earth if it were to be broadcasted. It forced her to finally listen, and while she resented the man before her, she knew something must genuinely be wrong.</p><p>    Marella let out a lengthy sigh, fingers locking themselves through the body of her hair. "It seems like everyone does, what's happened?" and while they still stood in the centre of a desolated corridor, Dumbledore knew that she wouldn't budge now, stubbornness knitted within her DNA. So instead, he casted muffliato nonverbally before reopening his lips. "The chamber of secrets has been opened, and I have a growing suspicion on who it might be."</p><p>    Marella's mouth gaped, body tensing itself with shock. "He's here...now?" she didn't need the man opposite her to say it, for she knew the name - Tom Riddle. It had been the man constantly lingering in her mind for years now, a permanent resident of her head, but she never thought she'd have the possibility of seeing his sickening face. She thought she would've been dead first.</p><p>    "Some form of him is, I assume. And if i'm right, your godson is in danger." Dumbledore spoke calmly, though his choice of words contradicted the tone he chose to let out.</p><p><em>    When is that fucker not</em>, she muttered to herself before letting out an agitated exhale, jaw now tensing with frustration. "What do you want me to do then?" she said dimly, monotone laced within her tone, for she was emotionally drained - but this was still her godson, sure she'd be walking into the devils flames, but she would go to hell and back for James and Lily Potter, even now, even after all this time.</p><p>    "I'm glad you asked," Dumbledore smiled, and at that, Marella knew whatever she was about to do would only backfire immensely. Albeit, she couldn't help but taste the adrenaline on the tip of her tongue, a wave of bitter nostalgia because she hadn't felt like this since Sirius Black was still by her side, and the world was their oyster. She liked it, she craved it, <em>she longed for it.</em></p><p>    "Goddamn Harry Potter, you're just like your father." she muttered to herself, both of the boys proving to be magnets for trouble; some things never change, and it weirdly warmed her. While James Potter was dead, a little piece of him still lived on inside his son, and she wasn't about to let it die. Not now, not <em>ever</em>.</p><p>No more Potters were going to die, that she was sure of.</p><p>▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃<br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. after the storm</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong><em> "YOUR HANDS ARE SCARRED WITH MURDER, </em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>AND YET I TRUST THEM COMPLETELY"</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>______________________________________________</em> </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>    —<b>THE POUNDING PAIN OF</b><br/>anger pulsing through her veins was starting to debilitate her, she tried — she tried <em>so</em> fucking hard to stop herself, to hold back the storm before it erupted into a cluttered mess of brutal emotions. Before it could spindle into a greyed hurricane, setting off relentless destruction in her path. But Marella wasn't using a wand to chant a fire in her home now, things were different, <em>she was different</em>.</p><p>    The stakes were higher, and she was loosing control of herself, the ashy rage clouding her vision like an incoming storm, as if her body was attempting to warn her, and truthfully, it probably was. She could hear them in the background. Cheering her on, roughed voices urging her to spit out a spell, to press her wand up against his neck, to fire back. They were goading her, just as the boy opposite was, his sickening smile carving itself into her head.</p><p>    One more hit, maybe that would erase him from her mind, one more spell maybe that would push him to shut his mouth, <em>two </em>words and he <em>would</em> be dead. To Marella, the crowd was merely a fuel, feeding the flames inside her. If she didn't kill the body before her, then she would be weak. <em>Silly weak girl</em>. She tried listening to the voices of the sane, the ones who really cared about her. But she couldn't, the anger was too much, it was too hard to contain inside her shaking body. Her anger was intense, it always had been, seeping itself through her blood like a drug, she appeared to be a junkie infused with pure, hot <em>rage.</em></p><p>    Her face was laced with clear sweat, dripping down the side of her in droplets, washing away the crimson blood that had latched itself onto her skin. Some of it being hers, most of it being his.</p><p> </p><p>𐐪𐑂</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>    —<b>ANGER WAS A DISEASE</b>, one that crept up on you slowly, rotting away your insides internally before it made itself known. So when you do find out what's overcome you, it's too late. Everyone has a small amount of it inside them, but for some, it grows and grows. And fucking never stops growing, expanding from a small ball of red until it took up your insides.<b> It was cruel</b>, knitting itself into the skin of the unlucky victim, ravaging them into some beast of their former self. <b>It was a curse</b>, and it's unlucky victims were left to roam the earth, carrying the heavy baggage of fury wherever they wished to go.</p><p>    Marella hated herself, even before she slammed her fist into his face, even before she set her house on fire, it was something she had grown accustomed to. She lived with the loathing, and it lived with her.</p><p>    She wasn't unhappy, infact she loathed anyone who called themselves that word. To describe yourself with it was cynical, because no one was fully unhappy — merely just wanting attention because they were experiencing difficulty. Out of 171, 146 words in the English language, Marella described herself as monotone. Life happened, she dealt with it. End of story, close the damn book.</p><p>    But then things changed, as they always do, and she found herself living.<br/>And maybe, <em>just maybe</em>, she could be okay.</p><p>    But not everything is easy, no journey is clear, and Marella would have to learn in order to have her redemption, to <em>finally</em> be happy she was going to have to face her fears. It had to come out eventually, and she would <em>have</em> to deal with it. —Because she couldnt run any longer, not when she had people holding her back. She was trapped, and maybe it would prove to be the best thing to ever happened to her.</p><p>    Or maybe she would fuck it up, as she does everything else.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>𐐪𐑂<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p> </p><p><b><em>( </em></b><em>circa; September 1st, 1974. </em><b><em>)</em></b><br/><b>    —THE COLOSSAL CROWDS </b><br/>of windswept families, bundled up in scarfs and awful interpretations of muggle clothing bid goodbye to their children. Marella attempted to blank them, telling<br/>— <em>convincing — </em>herself they were fabricated reactions, acts of affection to fit in. She found herself doing this often, feeding her mind lies in order to swallow the spike of jealousy that flemmed in her throat. It was a bitter day, the acrid wind shooting down air onto her skin, and the autumn season was living up to its British expectations — which was to leave the girl surly, though that seemed to be a consistent trait of Marella Bardot.</p><p>The place stood before her was all so fresh to memory, a new landscape she had yet to take in, with the damp pavement below showing signs of previous rain, and the darkening sky above, appearing to be merely one cloud away from a brutal storm, if she had a camera, she would of took photo after photo until the storage clogged up, because while the people surrounding Marella only worsened her mood, the scenery of a London platform was far too mesmerising to care.</p><p>    Rivulets of water from rain hung onto the ends of her brunette hair, their crystal bodies clutching onto her as if she were their last hope, <em>a</em><em>s if</em> they were actually capable of existing, when in reality there was nothing more to the little specks of dampness than water.  They were <em>nothing</em>.</p><p>    The everlasting darkness surrounding Ilvermorny, the previous school she had been unluckily forced into going, was a memory Marella discarded to the back of her head, keeping it locked tightly amongst other things she couldn't bring herself to touch, keepsakes she couldn't discard to the trash of her mind, but neither bring up, both seeming to cause too much internal damage.</p><p>      In truth, she was really just awaiting the day when they all came seeping out of her mouth like projectile word-vomit, because she wasn't strong, she couldn't hold back every little piece of pain forever, but that day was surreal to the girl. She'd never expect it to really happen. She was a <em>fool</em>.</p><p>Even if she hadn't wished to move, for whatever reason she had to stay in the crimson pits of Ilvermorny, it wouldn't have made an impact on where her feet stood that day. She had no voice within her family. <em>Sit still and be pretty</em>, a phrase her family had suffocated her with since the first breath had escaped her youthful mouth. The Bardots had high expectations for each of their children, insatiable ones which would never be met — no matter how hard the children tried.</p><p>      One day they would just give up and crumble under the pressure of their families rules, whether it was an insidious burn into insanity or a quick shift — one day merely waking to darkness as if they had never felt anything else before. Marella was terrified of going down this way — she had seen what the Bardots had done to her older sibling, who was now the ghost of a person, the history of her path erased from her mind with relentless torture and propaganda. Now only an emotionless puppet that longed for her drawing breath.</p><p>Marella knew she should feel guilt, or at least <em>something</em>, for the action she had emitted on her family, for the trauma they likely suffered after. But truthfully, she didn't care. Her mind was a static mess, craving the feeling of vengenace.</p><p>    One slip up, one wrong move was like a flame amongst an acid dripped room. And Marella Bardot found herself tripping during a family dinner she'd been forced into, there was no pause to decide if she should go through with it. No exhale before she casted the spell down. One moment she was standing in the manor which held all of her memories, and the next she was watching it crisp into burnt ashes of simple nothingness.</p><p>Was her reaction dramatic? Well it depends on who you ask. Cascade and Arroyo Bardot, the people she'd unluckily been cursed of sharing blood with, had sprung the reckoning news she'd been arranged to wed her cousin. Anger pulsed through the girls veins, a cacoethes shooting from her mind as she looked on at the people who thought they could decide her fate for her. Millions upon millions of ideas panned through her head on what she could do in retaliation, sick of her parents obsessive need to keep everything around them pure. <em>Pure, pure pure. </em></p><p>The ideas that formed varied from<br/>being kicked out of her home to an Azkaban sentence, which she was willing to take if it meant she was free from her parents smothering grasp. Yet the one she went through with, succumbed the people around her to, was one she hadnt thought of beforehand. The urge just trickled out of her body, it was reckless and risky, so she did it.</p><p>She set fire to their house.</p><p>The home that had birthed generations of pure-blooded freaks, who then went on to inflict abuse towards their children, a repeating cycle of trauma which never ended. Marella, personally, thought she was doing everyone a favour in destroying it. Her family thought otherwise.</p><p>She merely rolled her eyes, pressing her back up against the train seat while she decided it was time to stop obsessing over her actions that night. Everything which had occurred was now set in stone, carved into reality, so there was no going back. Arroyo and Cascade had hoped their daughter would hop along and find some nice Slytherin friends, where she could then discuss the values her family had imprinted into her mind alongside them.</p><p>        Yet the word hope was severely diluted, the instruction had been abused into her mind. She knew the consequences of disobeying them and had faced the painful wrath of this many times, but really — she was used to the pain. It couldn't get any worse than it already was, so Marella decided the only way forward was to do the exact opposite of what they wished. Maybe one day they'd just look at her and completely erase her existence from their eye view, Marella longed for that day. <em>Oh</em> how she longed for it.</p><p>Her 'fool proof plan' of polluting her<br/>families name still had a big downside, she wasn't exactly sure where to start. Call her an idiot, she wouldnt blame you, for she agreed. Marella could hardly burst into every single compartment and thus demand the kids to tell the stranger their blood-status, well actually — the thought had occurred, Marella just didn't have the energy to socialise with people as of right now. So she awaited for life to send destruction down her path, as it always did.</p><p>But the day she stepped foot on the Hogwarts Express would alter her life forever, for that was the day she met them, the marauders. A group of four boys who would carve her future, for good <em>or</em> bad.</p><p>Marella had took it upon herself to fling<br/>her hair into a low ponytail, loose strands of brown clinging onto the sides of her face. She was trying to read, and it seemed to only want to block her eyes, though distraction still persisted.</p><p>"We're sitting in here." A voice said as it opened the compartment door, disturbing the girl from her thoughts.</p><p>"Actually I wanted to be alo—" Marella was cut off as the boy ignored her and took a seat opposite, two others following along after him. "Why did I even bother." she sighed as she finally diverted her eyes to the students, dumping the book onto her lap. Marella hated introducing herself to others, so one day she just stopped, letting the other making their own impression of her.</p><p>Opposite her dreary eyes was a boy with messy hair, strands intertwined with each other as if they had a mind of their own, proving to be careless and free as they stuck out in corresponding directions, creating a mop of tangled locks which proved to be unruly. His eyes were widened with a sustainable amount of sleep, and his face was clear of fatigue or abuse, making him more lucky than he could ever truly imagine.</p><p>The next person, situated besides the boy she'd just observed, held a rebellious demeanour, from the way his loosened, crimson gold tie hung from his unbuttoned shirt, to the long, scraggy hair he pulled off effortlessly, it was easy to tell. His eyes beheld a storm, so beautiful one could let it take out the universe and still smile while being within its presence, but one she could tell straight away held the oceanic waves of abuse and sorrow, a hypnotising gift laced with the bitterness of poison.</p><p>    There was a way his face drooped, his hand clutching onto the famished skin he called his own as a voice raised slightly, trying to hold back a flinch in order to keep his secret safe, the other people may not of noticed, but Marella certainly did. He didnt meet her eyes, he didnt even look in her direction, and with that gesture <b><em>(</em></b> or lack there of <b><em>) </em></b>she felt a prickly sensation emerge amongst her chest.</p><p>Marella didn't waste any more time on the boy, twisting her head to the student who was perched on the shared seat next to her, he was sandy-haired with the most piercing glare. His overall face appeared to be somewhat stern, but from the grin he let out — his expression thus softened. Where his eyes ended, purple bags hung underneath, telling the story of many sleepless nights he'd endured.</p><p>"Alright then," Marella said slowly, "I think i'm owed some introductions, <em>boys</em>." she didn't care who they were, she just wanted to check they weren't the people Marella had been told to sit alongside.</p><p>"And why is that?" The floppy haired boy challenged her, his hands brushing through his hair once more as a small smirk appeared around his lips. She didn't get the impression he was rude, just that he was overly-confident. Marella could assume he appeared charming to others, and she had to give it to him — it was smart, the way the bitter words would fall out of his mouth while his face maintained a polite gaze. It didn't help he was good-looking, just as they all were, but for now,  Marella was unsure on who the boys actually were — thus her main focus being to know them.</p><p>"Because you interrupted my reading!" she spat, though her voice was laced with sarcasm. She then looked up at the boy directly opposite her, a laugh escaping her lips as he continued to mess on with his hair. "Yknow you shouldn't do that, it makes it greasy." she then responded softly, her head tilting slightly.</p><p>"Well you're definitely not getting an introduction now." he snarled before beginning to refer to himself in the first person — which only made the girl cringe more. "No one insults James' hair." he said as he primped it, an offended look plastered across his face.</p><p>"Nice to meet you James." she grinned, as he let out a loud groan — annoyed at his stupidity.</p><p>"I'm Sirius," The boy who sat next to him said, his own eyes flickering back and forth between Marella and the book she had in her clutch. "Sirius <em>Black</em>." he added onto the end, an emphasises on his last name which did not go unnoticed.</p><p>The Bardots and the blacks, two prestigious blood lines, yet the dislike between the families rooted deeper than their shared morals <b><em>( </em></b>though they hadnt always agreed with eachother on the likes of blood supremacy <b><em>). </em></b>And the hatred the families had for one another made the Bardots leave the country centuries ago, only now coming back under influence on their own daughters actions. Even just breathing the same air as Sirius Black was minacious for Marella, and she knew the consequences would be worse than anything she had previously endured, a new level of abuse she had yet to reach. Together they were a mixture of fire and gasoline, a rupture of flames that could only blow up harshly in their faces. The everlasting smoke tainting the people around them.</p><p>But Marella didn't like to be told what to do, or who to stay away from.</p><p>"Marella Bardot." she smiled, before turning her head to the boy next to her. Sirius continued to stare, knowing too well who he was sharing a compartment with now. The blonde placed his newspaper down onto his lap. "Peter Pettigrew." he said intriguingly as he unfolded a square of chocolate.</p><p>"So you're really a Bardot?" Sirius wasted no time in saying, his body leant foward out of intrigue. But what caught the girls attention was that he wasn't on the verge of leaving the compartment, nor was he repulsed at the mention of her last name, he just let his eyes stay on her. Once the glance became burning, she turned her own to his, both of them finally reaching.</p><p>Stormy grey clashed with honey brown. It was magnetic, she didn't feel the sensation to look away, but to continue loosing herself in his eyes. It may of sounded cheesy, Marella would probably agree, but their contact felt <em>right</em> — for all the <em>wrong</em> reasons.</p><p>"In the flesh." she responded slowly, each word hitting the air strongly.</p><p>"And you don't care that we're talking?"</p><p>"Do <em>you</em> care that we're talking?"</p><p>Sirius froze up for a moment, his face tanging red before he let out a stuttered response. "E-er no, anything my family believes in, i believe the opposite."</p><p>Marella had never obeyed her parents,<br/>their words being vacuole to her, but she couldn't help but feel a tinge of relief wash over her. She wanted to rebel against them, but Sirius Black was new territory, burning a house down was one thing — but befriending a Black was deeper down the black hole of her parents disapproval. She had finally found someone who'd endured the callous abuse of a malicious family, who she assumed disagreed with the rules just as much as she did, and she didn't want to loose this over her parents.</p><p>"Can someone fill me in?" James said quickly, it seemed that he didn't like to be out of the loop as he flickered his eyes back and forth between the two.</p><p>"My blood-line despises Blacks,"<br/>Marella shrugged carelessly, which Sirius then muttered "to put it lightly" just loud enough for his friends and the girl to hear. She could only nod in response, for what he had said was true.</p><p>Another student then entered the compartment, announcing to his friends — "Padfoot there's a girl asking for you across the aisle." But as he noticed Marella in the corner of his eye, he turned towards her, his face becoming softer as a polite grin curved around his lips. "Oh er hi there, I'm Remus. I didn't expect that we would have a...guest?"</p><p>"Well technically your friends are the<br/>guest, since I was here before them." she said as she reciprocated the friendliness, a straight smile pushed against her lips, in response to his gesture.</p><p>James waited no time in correcting her, "Actually Bardot, this is our compartment." the girl shuddered at her last name, for it held both power and trauma behind it. But she didn't let this known, for it was a weakness she wasn't ready to announce, not to him or anyone.</p><p>"I didn't realise Hogwarts had assigned compartments." she shrugged.</p><p>"Well it doesn't—"</p><p>"Great, its not your compartment then."</p><p>James looked at his friends for support,<br/>but they only shrugged. "Technically she's right." Remus said, causing Marella to turn back to him, finally given chance to pick up his appearance. He was slender, but it fitted with his appearance well. A scratch upon his pale skin, and countless marks around his neck caught the girls eyes, but she pretended she hadn't seen them out of respect. For she knew how it felt to have wounds, though hers weren't exactly visible to the naked eye right now. There was a curiosity to know why they were there, but she didn't pry, knowing if it was her on the other end — she wouldn't want him in her business.</p><p>"Which girl?" Sirius finally said, which<br/>only caused the boys to groan. "What?" he looked back at them.</p><p>"Padfoot, before you start snogging them you should atleast get their names." James said, though his hands were occupied with a golden snitch. He'd let it fly a few centimetres away from his grasp before catching it in his palm, feeding it through his long fingers as he lectured Sirius light-heartedly.</p><p>"Says you!" he fired back, "Atleast I can get over girls, tell me Prongs. How is Lily?"</p><p>James face lighted up, discarding the snitch in his pocket as he also ignored the comment his friend had made. "My Lily flower! Moony tell me you saw her, how was she looking today?"</p><p>"I did, since were both prefects." Remus responded as he took a seat between Marella and Peter, "She was er looking...the same as usual?"</p><p>Marella's face crumpled as the boys spoke, intrigue casted over her. From their nicknames they had for one another, to the way they bickered back and forth only made the girl believe these four kids weren't just friends who'd become close due to school, but brothers. In a way it made her jealous, a stab piercing through her stomach as she envied their bond — for she had no one she could trust as much as they did each other.</p><p>Then something caught her attention, the red ties they all were wearing, it took her a few brief moments to piece it all together, but slowly she began to realise what that entailed -- they were all Gryffindors, one of the four houses Hogwarts segregated their students into.</p><p>Marella interrupted their bickering, which was going on between James and Sirius, "A Black in Gryffindor, interesting." she observed, the boys attention being quickly turned on her.</p><p>"Better than Slytherin," Sirius snapped, though Marella's comment had been made out of curiosity not intended to be taken so firmly. He must've been the first of the Blacks to be initiated into Gryffindor, and while it made sense as he proved to be different from his family, it still came as a surprising shock.</p><p>"House prejudice doesn't look good on you." She then spoke clearly, "But I can't blame you for not liking Slytherin — It's full of blood-obsessors as of the moment."</p><p>"You're not like them are you." The long haired boy didn't question but merely stated.</p><p>"Im most certainly not." Marella said as she kicked her feet up onto the seat, her arms instinctively wrapping around her legs as she was careful not to provoke the boys sharing the seat.</p><p>A short silence fell over the compartment, creating a thickening tension because of her presence. The boys were the loud type, Marella could tell, and fairly dissimilar to the crowds she was used to. A part of her spoke, telling her she wouldn't be with these boys permanently. And in a way, she was right, though the universe had bigger plans for Marella and the marauders — they just weren't due to occur for awhile yet.</p><p>James looked up, his trans being broken<br/>by the quietness of the marauders. He let out a cough, bringing the rest of them back into the present. "So uh Marella, you're new? How'd that happen?"</p><p>"I set fire to my house."</p><p>Peter spat out the piece of chocolate, "<em>Huh</em>?" he looked up, but James was now shunned into silence for his mouth was left hanging open. The only person who seemed to find the situation humorous was Sirius, who let out a loud laugh before realising she wasn't lying, eyebrows thus crumpling. Marella snickered at their shock, because at least she was finally getting some credit for her actions.</p><p>The long-haired boy turned to his friend and shut his mouth, while Peter began to munch on another piece of chocolate — though his face was ghastly white. Sirius looked up at her, "Well I didn't expect that, <em>why?</em>"</p><p>"Because they tried to make me marry my cousin."</p><p>James mouth fell open again, and Peter began to choke on the chocolate which had just slipped past his throat. Sirius shrugged, causing the boys to look at him with sudden shock. "What? It happens all the time in pure-blooded families." if anyone knew about them, it was him.</p><p>Marella rolled her eyes at the four before turning to Remus, realising he hadn't spoken in awhile. The boys head was leant to one side, his body slumped on the seat as he let out quiet snores. "See Remus here doesn't think it's a  big deal."</p><p>"<em>Yeah</em>, because the poor boy isn't even conscious." James stated, "How can you say any of its <em>not a big deal</em>?" he mimicked.</p><p>"The only reason I did it was because I didn't want my future child to come out with a missing nose and eye, nor do I want to go anywhere near my foul cousins." Marella defended herself, "I'm just sorry my family made it out of there alive, I mean you'd think at least one of them would've died. Or even gotten badly hurt!" she baffled on, the boys eyes growing wide. "Oh dont look at me like that." she then said with an eyeroll.</p><p>"Well I for one, think what you did was awesome." Sirius spoke up, "I wouldn't mind watching the Grimmauld place burn to the ground."</p><p>"But she—she burnt down a whole house!"</p><p>"Actually it was more of a manor," the girl corrected him, watching as his face dropped further. "Oh loosen up would you, I thought you were the daring type but obviously I observed wrong." Marella knew what she was doing, only wanting to provoke a reaction from the boy sat opposite her. His arrogance was unfaltering, there was no denying it, and really it only took one comment to tip him over the edge.</p><p>"I am daring!" he said as he pulled up his shoulders, "Padfoot tell her! Im daring." he turned to his best friend, eyes growing wide.</p><p>Marella could only smile at the argument broke out between the boys, who were now bickering back and forth. She then stood up, shoving her book onto the seat before beginning to open the door. "Well im going to get changed now, frankly you two are giving me a headache." and thus, she was out of the door, leaving behind the two marauders <b><em>( </em></b>not including James and Sirius, who were now in an abrupt argument <b><em>) </em></b>to a sudden state of shock.</p><p>Once Sirius and James had eventually<br/>given up, their stubbornness contradicting one another, they turned their attention elsewhere — which for James was the book Marella had been reading. Signalling for Peter to give it to him, he began to curiously flip through the pages of the offensive novel named <em>Why mud-bloods don't deserve rights </em>but he was surprised as he stopped on a random page for the only thing greeting him was vibrance. The paper had been highlighted, and ferocious lettering wrote in quill ink was dotted around the page, counter-arguing all of the statements the book attempted to make.</p><p>"Ah, I see you've found the Christmas present for my parents." She said, causing James to jump slightly in shock as he saw the girl now towering above him. He had no idea when she had re-entered the compartment, but her face sent a wave of chills down his spine. She took it out of his grasp before slipping it into her plain cloak, "Im sure they'll love it." she said through gritted teeth as she sat back down. "Maybe as a thankyou they'll break one of my bones, or possibly even use the cruciatus curse on me." she snickered, and while all of the boys heard the comment, it had been spoken to herself.</p><p>The marauders could only presume the girl was joking, even Sirius couldn't believe a family would be that cruel to their own flesh. But they were all wrong, because everything Marella had spoken was the truth, an ugly, tarnishing truth, but nevertheless, one which was bittersweetly right.<br/>▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃</p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. before the storm</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
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  <strong> <em>"AND IN THE DEATH OF HER REPUTATION SHE FELT TRULY ALIVE </em></strong>
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<hr/><p> </p><p><em>prior october;</em><br/>
<b>     —WHEN MARELLA AWOKE IT </b><br/>
was the dead of the night, the rest of civilisation static in their slumber. But this was the way she liked it, and as she slipped onto the ledge of her inner window, she felt content. The earth's breeze pushed past the glass, greeting the girl soundly <b><em>( </em></b>she didn't mind <b><em>) </em></b>yet the lake beneath her home appeared to be hassled by mother nature — which had caused its water to brush up against the pavement. Maybe everyone around her was asleep, but she definitely wasn't alone.</p><p>     It was moments like this, as she sat with only her thoughts, that she seemed truly happy. That she felt more like herself than she ever had elsewhere. She was the most content when the faces of her family weren't there to rupture her confidence, nor were the people she attended school amongst able to look at her with noticeable disgust. Judging, whispering, commenting about her. About how much of a disgrace she was — <em>is.</em></p><p>     It must've been late when she awoke,<br/>
her head leant against the pane as her legs wrapped tightly around eachother. She hadn't planned on falling back asleep, nor had she planned to slip into unconsciousness on her window, yet this was exactly where she found herself as morning crept on. Eventually the rumbling clutters of house elves working, a familiar sound she was used to, awoke her into the present.</p><p>     Marella's stomach let out a bellowing rumble as she pulled her stiff body off the ledge, signalling for her to eat, yet she knew that her body's plead would have to wait — for her mother never let her consume food before a gathering, and then during the dinner her portion had to be small. So Marella sucked in her breath, holding for a few seconds before releasing; devouring the air around her for breakfast. She could only hope the night would go well, maybe then she would be fed properly. Marella knew it was bad when she looked forward to a meal. It was a cruel punishment, one which left the girl feeling frail and broken as she traced over her bones.</p><p>     For the early hours of the morning she busied herself reading, but not one of the many books her parents had given her — for they were laced with prejudice. Instead she pulled out a muggle book she had received from a distant friend for christmas, <em>to kill a mockingbird, </em>her index finger trailing through the papered chapters until she was met with her golden bookmark.</p><p>      It was quite ironic, how the book<br/>
discussed matters somewhat related to the current events of the wizarding world. Magic folks liked to believe they were different from muggles, that racism wasn't present in their society. But truthfully they were just as bad as regular humans, for the discrimination against half and muggle blooded wizards was practically the same as the racism presented in the book. Just the thought of someone loathing another purely on their skin or blood was sickening to her. She wasn't sure how she had formed such strong views coming from the family she did, but every atom in her body was ready to stand up for what she believed in. And she had already endured so much because of it.</p><p>
  <em>"I think there's just one kind of folks. Folks."</em><br/>
<em>-To kill a mockingbird , Harper Lee.</em><br/>
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</p><p>𐐪𐑂<br/>
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</p><p><b>     —FROM CASCADE'S GAUNT FINGERS </b>nipping at her daughters skin, to the corset she pulled around the girl, a word not said between them, Marella knew her mother had purposely caused her discomfort. It appeared Mrs Bardot wanted to punish her in every way possible just for breathing — a task Marella was struggling to do now due to the corsets tightness. She didn't understand her mother's profound abhor of her, even before she had hit rebellion, her mother had hated her. At one point, Cascade couldn't even bare to look at the child, a snarl escaping her crimson lips as their eyes met across the cold manor.</p><p>    Mothers are supposed to love their daughters, being a product they carried inside their own womb for a lengthy amount of time, the pair are thus supposed to be gifted with a strong bond. The type which ties the two together in a maternal way, an emotionally deep connection which runs through their blood, creating a type of love so powerful, so strong it could cause the other to stain their hands with murder — and had before.</p><p>Marella thought that was utter bullshit, her mother could be a stranger for all she cared, because the woman was a monster, a darkened, numb creature who fed on violence and abuse. Infact the girl had taken to shaping her personality and beliefs in the opposite direction of Cascade Bardot, never wanting to end up as cruel as she, but some things were inevitable.</p><p>She knew deep down, within her wounded body that if she were to follow her families pathway, which she would because it'd been all she'd ever knew, one way or another, Marella Bardot would end up just like her mother. It was a dinting thought, one imprinting itself into the girls head, keeping her awake for long moments during the night. It scared her, because she never wanted to be so awful, but sometimes things were out of humans hands, and Marella's whole life had been planned out for her. She didn't think she cared, because it was all she'd ever known, but there was a tiny piece within her wanting to know the other choice.</p><p>If there even was one. She was unsure.</p><p>     Marella's hair was then piled into a messy mid-bun, with a gold plated clip centring it. It looked soft and delicate, though the girl knew at touch it was hard and dry — due to the extortionate amount of hairspray that had been added to restrict its movement. Her formal dress hung just below her knees, creating a loose silhouette, as the draped sleeves dangled from her wrist — the pieces of fabric making it impossible for Marella to do anything. Which was likely her parents plan, <em>sit still and be pretty. </em></p><p>     How she looked in that moment compared to her stern, roughed up face was an oxymoron. For she was presented as the girl her family wanted her to be, but the internal screams of her seemed to break through the barrier of physical and emotional contact. Every curve to every dint in her cadaverous body didn't want to be there in that moment, but then again where else would she be? She had nowhere to hide, no dark shadows to crawl into, no blankets to burrow herself under. She was truly alone.</p><p>     Nevertheless she brushed the thought out of her panning mind, knowing she had to play a part for now. She comforted herself with knowledge that the dinner could only go on for a few hours, knowing tomorrow would be hers only. For the real Marella.</p><p>But that wasn't the way the night planned to unfold, for there would be no tomorrow for her there.<br/>
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</p><p>𐐪𐑂<br/>
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</p><p><b>     —THE MANOUR WAS A </b>chilling nightmare dressed in flowers  and laced with silk belongings, masking its true colours as it too played a part. But Marella could pretend, if she pushed the chilling memories out of her head for a short period of time, the place almost soothed her. Maybe it was the soft music, twirling its melody into the girls ears as she moved around the place, or the delicate way the rows of satin material had been draped over the bruises of the house.</p><p>       But what eased the Bardot the most was the comfort of other faces. Marella knew with guests around, she was practically invincible to her parents abuse. Because really, she was not the only one who needed to put on an act.</p><p>     Of course this moment of serenity would soon be snatched away from her, as would the rest of the home stood before her. It was the calm before the storm, the pause before the heavy beat drop. It appeared the sharp dig of a long nail in her arm caused <em>strike one</em> of the night, her mother nastily grabbing her daughter and pulling her towards the dining table.</p><p>    The puncturing sharpness of her mother's grasp made the girl flinch before sinking down into a state of fear. One she would never let known to anyone, but one which was nevertheless there.</p><p><em>     "Mother</em>, you could have just asked me to come over." Marella muttered as she was hauled across the room, though the action was done in a secretive manner under a masked concealment. This was the way every action, every hit, every spell was done, to everyone else the family was adequate. But within these walls they were laced with a deep macabre, which had been once taken out on all three of their children — now only occurring to Marella, who took fault for her younger sisters slip-ups.</p><p>     "I do not want you embarrassing this family tonight," her mother screeched into her ears, the piercing tone escaping her lips was almost identical to nails on a chalkboard. Infact in that moment, Marella would of preferred to hear that sound over her mother's voice. "This is an important night, you will not mess it up."</p><p>     Marella sighed, "I won't mother." she promised, and thus, Cascade finally let go of her daughters arm. The only thing left of their encounter was a dinted mark in her skin, a stinging reminder of what she'd just promised to. It was bruised purple, a red shadow forming around it slowly. Maybe it had bled, maybe it hadn't, but Marella seemingly discarded it. For if she dared to bring her eyes down to it, even as so touch it, her mother would have won.</p><p>     Marella sat down at the dining table, a<br/>
fake smile now plastered across her face, and soon, the family who had came to dine turned to her with a sudden sickening interest.</p><p>     The Addingtons; part of the sacred<br/>
twenty-nine and in Marellas opinion, truly fearful. From their pitch-black hair, to their sickly pale faces they looked like walking corpses amongst the Bardots, <em>like</em> death itself had clung onto their limbs. The link between the two families was through her father Arroyo and Killian, yet it seemed they never shared the brotherly love expected of two boys near the same age as eachother.</p><p>    Marella could see the resentment in each of their eyes, piercing on one another as they too sat at the long dining table. Although Killian had taken his wife's last name, the resemblance between Arroyo and him was uncanny.</p><p>     "It's lovely to see you Marella," Juliana Addington said, her voice sharp to hear as she twirled her fork around her plate. She was being polite to the girl, but Marella knew this was only a faux gesture. It was like they were in a movie, all forced into playing a parts which didn't resemble them. Each person in the room had deep layers, their true personalities tucked under makeup and tailored clothes.</p><p>     "Likewise." She responded with a grin before bringing a cup to her lips, the girls body now desperate to eat — yet it only got cold water in return. She could feel the iciness cling onto her dry throat, slowly washing itself into her stomach with nothing but emptiness.</p><p>     "Yes, we see you have matured since we last had the pleasure of seeing you." Killian Addington chimed in as he stabbed a piece of meat with his fork. His eyes never leaving his plate, as if they were transfixed on something there, though Marella knew this gesture was only because he refused to look at his sibling.</p><p>     Juliana diverted her eyes to Cascade,<br/>
"I see she's also gained quite a bit of weight."</p><p>
  <em>     Strike two.</em>
</p><p>     Though Julianas words stung, they were<br/>
the truth. Marella had been a lanky child, her ribs poking out of her skin unflatteringly and her cheekbones prominent to see. However she hadn't been born this way, as others had presumed, but forced into that lifestyle after years of starvation abuse from her parents. Once she was at Ilvermony, she appeared to pick up the weight she needed to be healthy. And the girl was happy with this transformation, thought she couldn't say the same for her family — especially her mother.<br/>
<br/>
    The lineage of Bardots all had a strict image to uphold, dark brooding men with firm builds and slender women with pasty faces. Marella didn't seem to fit this image, even before she gained weight, causing the tension between her and Cascade to only thicken.</p><p>     "Don't worry we can sort that out <em>soon</em>." Cascade spoke darkly, and once those words hit the air, Marella pushed her plate to one side — as if she could read her mother's mind. She told itself it didn't matter, the food on the porcelain only being full of empty carbs. Infact, she convinced herself she was glad to move it away, knowing that the tasteless food <b><em>( </em></b>lacking vitamins she needed<b><em>) </em></b>would only torment her hungry body.<br/>
  <br/>
   Or maybe it was just another empty lie, something she'd fed her mind in order to reassure herself. It seemed she couldn't tell what was good and what was bad these days, the lines between the two thinning out immensely.</p><p>     "But either way, I think it's a perfect fit. She will loose the weight, Juliana." Killian said as he chewed a piece of food, his arrogant persona shining. But at the words of her uncle, Marella looked up with a confusing spark in her eye,<em> a perfect fit for what?</em></p><p>     "Then it's settled," Arroyo Bardot announced as he turned towards his daughter, lifting his cup of red wine. The rest of the table joined in, their drinks being abruptly raised in the cold, drafty air. Marella followed along, aching to know what was about to be said. But nothing would of prepared the child's ears for what was to come from her fathers mouth next. "Marella and Stephen will be married once she has came of age."</p><p>
  <em>     Strike three.</em>
</p><p>     Marella let the cup drop from her grasp, the glass hitting the stoned floor, shattering into millions of sharp pieces. Wine spilled out alongside it, staining the cream carpet blood red, just as her parents had stained her own  mind — payback. A shriek came of her mother as the noise grabbed everyone's attention, the woman's face now furious with a pounding rage. A rage which terrified the girl, one which caused the hairs in her body to jolt into standing.</p><p>    "You can't expect me to marry my cousin!" Marella pleaded, but as she looked up at their pale faces, she knew there was no escaping this arrangement. This wasn't a decision they'd thought irrationally about, but something she could tell had been planned for years. She could see it on them, the look of knowing. It appeared she had been the only one in the dark on her own future, blinded by the mediocre hope they wouldn't force this on her. Hoping nobody would actually want her.</p><p>     But instead, Marella had been succumbed to the same fate she deeply resented, and it only took this for the girl to snap, a switch flicking <em>on</em> inside her body. The world seemed to dull around her, and she found herself only able to focus on the table of people before her. Everything else was hazy, a red fog surrounding her vision as she looked at them with an unredeemable hatred. She pulled out her wand instinctively, rising from her seat and pointing it at the centre of the table.</p><p>    Marella had little knowledge of her families ancestry, only knowing they hadn't always been blood-supremacists, coming to the cruel belief quite recently. Maybe that's why there was a sense of desperation she married a pure-blood, to keep their line clear of anything muggle-related, because they had only joined the group of sacreds within the last few decades — and none of them wanted to loose this placement at the hands of their rebellious daughter.</p><p>     "What the fuck are you doing silly girl?" Killian shouted, and although his words had been sharp, atleast his attention had finally been drawn from his food. They bit into the air with hostility, and caused everyone's eyes to flicker towards him. Yet all Marella could think about was how alike a monster he looked in the moment, but then again, he didn't look like one, he was one.</p><p>     "I am not marrying my cousin." Marella screeched, a desperate tear falling from her eye out of frustration. It strummed down her cheek, salty water being met with pasty skin. Her hand was shaking intensely, and her mind was racing with pulsing thoughts, she was uncontrollable — and not even Marella had her own remote now</p><p>     "Yes you are!" her mother bit back, rising from the table after her. Now the woman was in the full attention of everyone around her, shined in the golden spot light, and Marella could see her mother clearer than ever before. Every angular detail imprinted on the woman was in the naked eye of her daughter, and she looked at it with repulse.<br/>
<br/>
    Cascade saw the way her daughter perceived her, and it frightened the woman, but still she didn't let her guard drop — choosing to gulp this feeling into the back of her throat abruptly. "...Now put your wand down you disgraceful waste of space."</p><p>     Marella had to do something, and she had to do it quick. The girl was a carefree child, the weight of the world not yet on her shoulders, and she wished to keep this innocence — even just for a little longer. She didn't want to end up like them, miserable and unhappy. Merely surviving each day, drenched in envy of those who got to truly live.</p><p>     Marella knew of her cousin, and besides from the disgusting knowledge of them being related, she also knew the toxic male aggression he carried with him. Stephen Addington would only break her, and even fourteen year old Marella knew that. <em>Fourteen</em>. She was purely a child.</p><p>     She thought fast, and she thought irrationally — as any child would do under the circumstances currently unfolding. The girl had to embarrass her family, put the Addingtons off the arrangement in place. Little did she know,  this one act of rebelliousness would alter her life forever. She would no longer become the carbon-copy of her mother, emotionless and mean, fate had once decided. Her path changing.</p><p>     "Incendio." Marella chanted, her wand producing a jet of flames, which in return travelled to the large centrepiece. And thus, the fire had been lit. The spark that enlightened every single future outcome to exist. It only took one word from the girls mouth, one act of rebellion to truly shape her life in a different direction.</p><p>     Marella didn't think the fire would spread, she didn't think it would destroy her home. She assumed it would've been put out the moment it erupted — but it wasn't. Her families faces were scratched into Marellas mind forever, as they just sat there; paralysed in shock. Watching as the flames destroyed the boutique of roses, then travelling onto the cloth Marella had only admired a few minutes prior. By the time they'd been awoken from their startled trance, it was too late, the fire was too powerful, too restless. Just like their daughter.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>𐐪𐑂<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>    <br/>
    —<b>MARELLA GRABBED HER SISTERS</b> hand, eleven year old Kaia who'd been sitting at the table silently, and pulled her away from the occurring destruction. Part of Marella was scared, <em>scared</em> for her sisters safety, <em>scared</em> they weren't going to make it out alive, <em>scared</em> of the following repercussions of her actions — but no part of her tired, breathless body was remorseful. The grip she had on Kaia tightened as they reached the door, the pair not stopping to help others escape. Her sister was her number one priority, and she had a growing lack of guilt towards the other Bardots, they could burn for all she scared. So without any hesitation, the girls hauled themselves out of the burning manor and into the darkened street.</p><p>     It was late, the midnight air ready to pounce on the two girls, yet when it saw what lay infront of them it backed off quickly. Drifting away to find someone else's skin — it seemed even mother nature was scared of what Marella Bardot had created.</p><p>     The house was now cascaded with ochre flames, ashy smoke rising from the chimney above as it crisped into deathening blackness. Now the only colour present was the towering fire, as if the world has suddenly went black and white.</p><p>    Marella's eyes, teary from the smoke around them, watched widely with shock as her house burnt to the ground — taking the memories along with it. Every thing would soon be gone, wiped from the earth as if it was never there, completely erased. And Marella could only think one singular thought—</p><p>— <em>Good riddance.</em><br/>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. silver linings within darkness</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong> <em>SHE WORE A SMILE LIKE A </em> </strong>
  <br/>
  <strong> <em>LOADED GUN</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>______________________________</em> </b>
</p><p><b>     —LOVE'S A PECULIAR THING.</b><br/>It reaches two people, twirling its ribbons between the pair and tying them into one, piecing them together — like an incomplete jigsaw puzzle beckoning to be finished. It causes the poets to utter out articulated sonnets; the root seed of what then grows into something bigger than mere words — but emotions, coercing readers into truly seeking the idea of love. Or maybe it's the writer, the man who sits behind the typewriter day on end, fingers jabbing down letters that piece together a true work of art, a structured novel within the romance category which thus leads people into a fantasy of their own dreamboat. Love's old, far older than anyone still breathing and never seems to grow with age, or bore the roamers of earth — even if it has been strained and milked for centuries. The force of love is <em>so</em> strong it can erupt blinding lightness within the shallow pits of darkness, and while everything about love seems faultless, Marella can't help but hate it.</p><p>She wants to reach into someones body, hand furrowing deep until she reaches their heart, and rip it out. To feel their organ pulse until it no longer can, beats fading out slowly as it dies in her palm. She truly believes she would be doing the clueless soul a favour, ridding their heart of the weighing baggage love brings along with it. While the speculation, <em>folklore</em> infact of two people <b><em>(</em></b> or more, in some cases <b><em>)</em></b> sharing themselves within eachother sounds winsome, the truth is not alike the books romanticisation. For those words are carefully structured nonsense, creating paragraphs which only have one purpose: to brainwash people into believing they could receive something close to love, when in reality, they will only get disappointment.</p><p>    Love <b><em>( </em></b>the four lettered term every mouth knows <b><em>) </em></b>will only shatter them, like glass hitting the floor in bitter shambles, and soon the intertwined souls will rot pure green. Decaying adagio as their touch on one another turns bitterly cruel. Soon they won't share love, <em>no</em> that won't be what stands between them, but utter boredom directed at the figure they chose to spend life with. Of course the loathing of one another <em>will</em> eventually stop, as everything does, but the timing of this desperate release will be ironically bittersweet — for they only escape the grasps of love when their other is buried within heaps of black soil. Marella speculates the other human will be left with noxious guilt, which slowly eats away their insides until they can't persist any longer, the feeling swallowing them into consequential demise. Thus pulling the rope around their neck and kicking the chair back, freeing themselves from the guilt. But that's only her opinion.</p><p>Or maybe, the girl knows she will never experience anything close to the word, so she finds no means in idealising it, when really, it will only lead to disappointment.</p><p>Therefore she's content with hating it, feeding her mind virulent falseness so she can never gain an unhealthy attachment to it. Marella knows she can never touch love, never graze her thumb against it, ever place her swollen lips upon it. It's cruel to be born for annihilation, left without a choice on what your sole purpose is, but she's grown alongside the idea of an empty marriage. Betrothal isn't the worst thing that can happen to one, but Marella thinks it is, to have your rights stripped from you, to be an object of the male gaze — she would rather choke herself to death than go that way, but it's all she's ever known.</p><p>She wants to believe love is true, and while it very well might be, she will never have it. While Marella maybe drenched in the riches of millions, her surname coated with burning gold, money will never buy her what she truly wants.</p><p>    And she would have to live with that.</p><p><b>    —ILVERMORNY HAD ALWAYS TAKEN </b>aprestigious approach at teaching witchcraft and wizardry, and while this certainly helped Marella's overall grades during her time there, she had a severe hatred for the strictness of the place. It was suffocating, in the girls opinion, the rules wrapping themselves around the students and choking them into place. It reminded Marella of the manor truthfully, from the hostile coldness of the towering halls, to the bitter faces of students who dared not to step out of line. It was like they were all held together by strings, limbs tied together with knots, captured to play a part as if they were mindless puppets.</p><p>    But once her black converses hit the cobbled floors of Hogwarts, she felt <em>different</em>. The warmth engulfing halls held roaring students, their bodies crushing against eachother, overlapping voices filled with contagious elation. Each person was unique in their own way, specs of flesh that each had their own thoughts and futures, and while she wished to open up their insides and pry out every hidden detail about them — she kept her mouth shut, merely printing the faces of the strangers into her mind.</p><p>    Marella described herself as free in the moment; that her body could slunk and not be snapped back into place, that she could truly smile without having to limit it as a polite grin. Her chest let out an exhale, not an usual diurnal one, but one which freed her limbs from the strain they were habitual to. The girl knew it wasn't permanent, so she absorbed every ounce of the liberty around her, a genuine smile tugging at the corners of her chaffed lips from the release Hogwarts had given her.</p><p>     The four marauders had walked alongside Marella as they found their way through the corridors, causing hushed whispers of intrusive students to occur around Marella. Their eyes locked on her figure, taking in each figment of the girl's appearance with intrigue. "Why are they looking about me?" Marella asked Remus specifically, a hint of insecurity escaping her mouth — which was erased before it could become known.</p><p>    Marella knew she could trust his words more than the others, so she found herself relying on his response as a valid answer, though she would never hear this due to an interrupting voice.</p><p>     "Because we run this school!" James shouted into her ears, causing the girl infront to shudder at the stridency of his tone. Yet it wasn't the crippling sound she was used to, screams bellowing into her eardrums on how exactly she was worthless, but only a cocky statement of a teenager. She merely rolled her eyes at him, watching as he began to prance over towards her — his posture held high, effortlessly displaying the confidence he had been granted.</p><p>    But once he reached her side, he panned his eyes around before adding quietly, "...Or maybe because I told a few people that you burnt your house down." the phrase had came out in a mumble, confidence beginning to drain from his torso and face. He didn't know this girl, two strangers standing side by side, and he didn't know how she would react to his gossiping tendencies.</p><p>     Her reaction was just as he feared, Marella's fingers thus digging into her palm, creating a sturdy fist. The smile faded from his face, and he found himself nervously awaiting for the reply of her, his hands fumbling by his side — he didn't mean to tell people about what she'd done, but he couldn't help it. To be in the presence of someone so reckless <b><em>(</em></b> even more than he and his friends were <b><em>)</em></b> was exciting, <em>adrenaline boosting infact</em>, and he couldn't bear to keep the news of such a defiant figure now attending Hogwarts.</p><p>     Marella released her fist before clasping on his arm, pulling them both to a halt in the rowdy hallway. Groups hardly batted an eyelash, weaving their bodies away from the two as if this was a common occurrence. "It was a manor, not a house." she then spat after a moment of shared silence between the two, her eyes pulsing against his with a surety he had never seen before.</p><p>"Oh...youre not mad?"</p><p>     "I won't be as long as you correct everyone, I don't want to be known for crisping a small arsing house." She spat as she removed her hand from his skin, to which he let out a deep breath that was sent in the direction of the marauders — who had stopped themselves a few meters away from the two. Close enough to watch the situation unfold, but at a safe distance just incase she decided to pull a stunt on him. To say they were taken back by her response was an understatement, for they were left with more questions on the girl than they were answers.</p><p>     Sirius had looked up at her, a smile across his face as she began to move again <b><em>(</em></b> her pace quicker now <b><em>)</em></b>, walking infront of the four as she made it her mission to send glances at prying students. "I like this one." he murmured to James who rolled his eyes in response, nudging the long-haired boy with his elbow.</p><p>     "You like them all till you're bored." Remus added, to which Sirius only widened his grin — "You're just jealous you can't get a piece of this, moony." he said charmingly, sending a wink in the direction of his friend.</p><p>     "He's right." James said as he raised his eyebrow, his arm draping over Sirius' shoulders. "No need to be so bitter that you don't have what we have."</p><p>     "Are you done flirting yet?." Marella called out, her head tilting over her shoulder as she began to peer her right eye at the four boys.</p><p>     "Who?!" They all said at once, minus Peter who flickered his head back and forth between his friends in confusement — eyebrows crumpling before he shrugged it off, turning his attention back to the book he'd been reading as they walked.</p><p>     "All of you!" Marella responded back in the same tone they had done to her, "Well er, minus Peter." she said as she slowed her pace down, bringing her hand against his head and giving it a pat. "You're doing great sweetie." she said teasingly at the blonde-haired boy.</p><p>    "Thankyou." Peter said sarcastically as he lifted his eyes from the novel. "See padfoot, being unproblematic has its benefits." he then chuckled as his left hand tugged at Marella's wrist, shaking it in the direction of the long-haired boy. "I got a pat."</p><p>    "Sure did." Marella laughed as she wiggled her fingers at Sirius, to which Peter then let go of her arm, returning to his page as he mumbled — "You're missing out." before loosing himself in the words of Harper Lee.</p><p>     "Hey! Where's my pat?" Sirius chimed in, letting out a dramatic puff of air, which caused a few strands of hair to blow up for a moment before falling back down against his skin.</p><p>     Marella shifted her eyes away from Peter and onto Sirius, her left eyebrow arching. "You really want one?" she asked sternly, unable to decipher whether this was a teenage boy or a child.</p><p>     "Yes...please." he nodded eagerly. Remus let out a snicker at this, leaning towards James — "Atleast he's using his manners." he then whispered sarcastically.</p><p>     The girl crumpled her face for a moment before giving in to the boy next to her, bringing her hand against his soft locks of hair, she let her hand bounce against him for a moment before pulling away, watching as he shot a toothy smile back at her in response. "Again!" he called out, unused to the affection of being praised.</p><p>     Marella blinked, "Are you a dog or something?"</p><p>     "Well act—" his voice was cut off as a professor called out the girls name, her tone was sharp and professional, but the polite grin her face curved made up for the seriousness. She was dressed in full black, the dark colour dripping from her shoulders to her shoes with severe coordination. "Marella Bardot, please come with me." she said as the girl turned.</p><p>    The multiple remarks the four boys had fired out towards the professor gave Marella the indication of what her first name was, and the light-hearted comments she sent back gave the girl a further idea on how this was typical for the marauders.</p><p>     Marella soon found herself in a comfortable silence with the professor, only noises present being the faint lull of students in the background and the repeated click of the woman's heels on the stone flooring. It was a nice quiet, fairly unfamiliar, but one she could definitely become accustomed to. The air bathing the room hadn't crushed her, but nor was it too thin for her to let out a breath. It was seemingly just right, as if it had been created to suit Marella alone.</p><p>    After a winding route across the enchanting castle, where Marella took to observing the scenery around her, a disguised staircase concealed by a gargoyle statue lead them to what she could only presume was the headmasters office.</p><p>     A bearded man was sat at his desk, who had been previously writing until the doors of his room opened, his quill then being dumped onto the desk as he left the letter incomplete out of respect for the two figures opposite. His face exhibited curiosity, and while he was doing a passably good job at showing little expression, the girl could feel him poking around in her head.</p><p>    Trying to gain information on her through the skilled art of legilimency, which to his dismay, she was also accomplished in. So she did one thing in response to his nosiness, she kicked him the fuck out of her mind.</p><p>Marella never thought occlumency would deem to be useful, other then when she needed to lie about where she'd been. But now, as she sat before a white-haired man, the girl was glad she had took to learning it at such a young age. Her mind had layers, and she was concerned he might suffocate in there, for she was filled with trauma and bruises <b><em>( </em></b>mentally and physically <b><em>)</em></b>. Marella knew if he were to see her memories, even just a glimpse of what she'd suffered, her well-applied disguise would plummet. And that terrified her.</p><p>A sparkling glimmer erupted from his aging pupils, miniature fireworks exploding in his eyes with aspiration. While any student would've looked on at their headmaster with growing fascination, Marella didn't, for this blot of magic he carried only made her feel insignificant. Like a frail child standing opposite a well-established man, which she supposed was the truth, Marella could only be left looking trivial. She knew he held power, myths passed down from generations of wizards, but she didn't realise she would be crushed by the sensation his presence held. Marella thought for a moment he may laugh, lips spit out a snide comment, but then she realised a fact she hadn't been raised alongside — not all higher figures were bad. She didn't let this growing insecurity show through her flesh, her body pulling itself up into the posture of someone who was titled as important, face staring at the mighty man with flatness.</p><p>     He let his eyes float onto the pair before him, one of his hands stroking against his pale, whitened beard. When he spoke, the air seemed to recoil, making room for the noise amongst the atmosphere. "Thankyou professor McGonagall for guiding miss Bardot here, you may go now." and with a polite nod, the woman was gone, cluttering heels trailing out of the area — leaving Marella alone.</p><p>     "Come sit!" he called out, his hands  gesturing towards an empty seat opposite the desk. There was a plain smile upon his face, the expression revealing layers of wrinkles he'd gained from years of existing, and while it made him look older than he truly was, the professor displayed it with fixed surety.</p><p>    As Marella hesitantly obliged, the man waisted no time in conversing with her, "So miss Bardot, I am pleased to see a new face joining Hogwarts. I can only assume America was not the right place for you?" his eyebrows raised once he was finished, and Marella could instantly tell he was attempting to pry out information, this was likely due to his usual tactic deeming useless. From one look at the man, she could tell he was smart — intellectual but not in the usual way she had seen many times before, but more so treacherous. Just as she could observe people, so could he, but it appeared Dumbledore could take it further. His mouth was laced with manipulation, and while he didn't let out any potent lies during her time in the office, she could tell he was gifted with this dangerous skill.</p><p><em>     Yeah because it fucking sucks, </em>her mind answered for her, though she didn't dare let the sarcastic comment leave her mouth. So instead, she sent him a sickening smile, one she'd grown to use on the daily while she scripted a vague answer in her mind. "I'm afraid not sir." she then spoke, a bland response that left the man opposite with more questions in his defined mind.</p><p>     "And er—there seemed to be some issues with your home." he slightly stumbled over his words, this was due to the girls determination she presented towards him. Since he'd took his first steps on ground, walking the earth with purpose, he'd never met someone who held just as much strong-will as she did — and while he couldn't gather her hidden details, he clung onto this fact with force. While Marella didn't know how much capacity she held within her bones, Dumbledore did. "As i'm sure you're aware." he then added.</p><p><em>     I'm more than aware since I fucking caused them, </em>she muttered to herself, entertaining the words of Dumbledore before finally letting her voice hit the air once more. "Yes I'm afraid so." her eyes slanted slightly, and while her finger dug deep within the skin of her thumb, she managed to conceal her insecurity well.</p><p>     "Well we're all glad to have you here miss Bardot, i'm sure you'll make a great impact on those around you." and those words proved to be precise, as he had speculated.</p><p> </p><p>𐐪𐑂<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p> </p><p><b>     —MARELLA DIDN'T WANT TO </b><br/>admit the affronted truth — while her body brimmed with confidence, she still found herself nervous to step into the hall. Children's eyes burned into her mind with repetition, an image of what she would soon be succumbed to, thus throwing a salty wave of worry into her brain — and while she desperately tried to stay afloat, she couldn't shake off the faces she was about to meet. <em>Show no weakness, </em>the instruction she'd learnt from her mother overtook the abrupt disturbance of panic, draining it from her mind, for she couldn't afford to show vulnerability.</p><p>      So in distraction, Marella pulled her hair out of the flimsy ponytail, locking her hands through its body as she braced herself for entry.</p><p>     Marella was invincible to them, the power of a rich ancestry startling the students into a sudden silence, scared of what she could get away with due to her privilege. In the moment, she'd held herself with an unfaltering spike of confidence, one the students couldn't even begin to replicate — the type only authors could describe of their antagonist. While she appeared to be vastly different from the regular students in their seats, truthfully she wasn't. But there was a certain difference between she and them, for Marella had learnt to never show susceptibility, therefore her eyes didn't find themselves shooting to the ground, just as her shoulders didn't dare slouch as she moved.</p><p>    It was like the girl needed to prove she was different to everyone else, even after she had discarded her families values, she never let her true persona shine through her concealment — something they had taught her. Because if she didn't have her families name to hide behind, she had to have <em>something</em>. The girl feared being nothing more than purely average, swallowed into the crowd, no distinct features making her dissimilar to the flock.</p><p>     The feeling of envy poured out from the students faces as she passed, which then dropped down their widened expressions with hints of jealousy. Her feet were now striding across the hall with certainty, <em>purpose</em>, while her pupils stayed firmly on the scenery ahead. She didn't flicker them to the students, nor make any unwanted eye contact with a professor, they just stayed blankly infront. It was like she wasn't real, a figment of imagination to the kids.</p><p>   She couldn't be real, for she was displayed so perfectly, yet so <em>roughly</em>. If only they knew that she was crumbling, and the tower she had sculpted was falling apart.</p><p>     Marella was like fresh air in a heated room, a new face in a crowd of familiars, taking in their interest with captivation. And their absorption of her only appeared to peak as she took a seat on a stool, a hat being placed atop her head. To the unknowing students, Marella's face showed signs of rebellion, chapped lips splintering in the centre <b><em>(</em></b> battered with impulsivity <b><em>)</em></b> while bruises on her left cheek sat noticeably.</p><p>    These had been the ones which asserted stubbornness, that even the power of strong magic wasn't able to stop. Up in Dumbledores office she was the lesser, but now infront of the students, she was seen as something bigger. Some were afraid of her from purely her name alone, others more curious to uncover the layers of Marella Bardot.</p><p>     Then there was silence; anticipation.</p><p>     "A bardot, how wonderful." The sorting hat spoke to purely Marella alone, and the girl was far too intellectual to think this conversation would be heard across the hall. "I sense strong ambition, a determination to prove you're not like your ancestors." it then began to observe her, while she'd done the same to many, she loathed others attempting to replicate this back at her.</p><p>     Marella knew what it was initiating, "Dont put me in fucking Slytherin." she threatened the fabric with hostility. The words were only present in her head, and yet they slipped out with such force that even the hat seemed to be stunned.</p><p>     "And why's that?" the hat challenged her. "I see the green pouring from your veins, you have a cunning thirst for leadership. You want to hold power like no other.....Ah but I see, you wish not to be in the house of snakes for one reason. I see now, you don't want your parents approval. Very well, I shall look deeper." The hat paused, but Marella refused to let out a sight of relief. It wasn't over yet, she could still be placed in the green house. "You speak your mind Bardot, your eccentric personality shining through. You're full of intellect, but you're not in it for the<br/>glory—"</p><p>
  <em>     "—RAVENCLAW"</em>
</p><p>    A furious eruption of cheers arose, blaring with deafening enthusiasm as she pulled her body up from the seat, making way towards the blue table slowly. The area was filled with royal sapphire, weaving its way between the uniforms of the students, and arranging itself in the form of napkins upon the wooden structure.</p><p>    Her eyes fell to the uniform clinging her body, where the blank tie now displayed the similar colour of the decorations around her, and it only took that small gesture to truly confirm this was happening — there was no going back anymore, she was now officially enrolled at Hogwarts.</p><p>    She didn't care about being placed in Ravenclaw, for she knew no harmful repercussions were going to arise because of the house she'd been sorted into, yet she also knew her family would be less than pleased — but then again, when were they anything if not that?</p><p>     Marella had only just rested her body in an empty spot along the benches of students when a familiar face appeared from behind the main hall's door, Professor McGonagall— now guiding first years through the crowded area and towards the centre. Their faces were filled with bewilderment, taken back by the whimsical place before them.</p><p>    She supposed it was understandable, many children within the group would of believed magic was merely a fairytale up until this point, something they could never quite experience. Marella did not share this same awe, her head burying itself tightly in her arms, a slight groan escaping her lips. She knew what was to come, and by the looks of the kids, it was going to be a dragged out while before she'd be allowed to eat.</p><p>     "Is she dead?" a voice had called out, prodding Marellas arm before lowering her own head to the table: eyes peering at the bored girl. "Hello?" she then said with concern, her lips dragging out the words slowly.</p><p>     Marella propped herself up, sighing. "Does this thing normally take long?" she looked back at the kids, there seemed to be an extortionate amount of them huddled together. She just wanted to go over and— "Awhile, and theres more of them this year." A boy on the opposing end of the table interrupted her violent thoughts, his left eyebrow raising slightly as he broke the news.</p><p>     "What is up with people and their need to have unprotected sex?" the girl complained before realising that she was yet to introduce herself, "I'm Bridget, but you can call me Bridge." the fellow Ravenclaw said as she pulled her head up off the table, dragging it back into position.</p><p>     "Oscar." the boy smiled up at Marella, before their eyes wandered back to the sorting process, a shared silence erupting between the three while they all looked on at the nervous first years. Oscar began to take out a piece of parchment after a few short moments, his hand guiding a quill across the rough paper — where he then drew a fairly imprecise chart.</p><p>    What are you doing?" Marella eyed him up with uncertainty.</p><p>     "What am I — <em>Oh</em>! To keep this <em>thing</em> more interesting, we try to guess what each kids house is going to be." Oscar shrugged, his concentration focusing more on Marella than it did the wonky line he'd just placed onto the paper.</p><p>     "And what does the winner get?"</p><p>     "Eternal glory." — "Free butter beer next Hogsmeade." the pair said in sync, yet their answers deemed to be vastly different.</p><p>     Marella let out a small laugh, "Alright i'm in, those...conflicting rewards really convinced me." she then said with a layer of sarcasm, to which Bridget opposite her bit back—"I thought they might've." she said while shaking her heads lightly, an obvious grin escaping her lips.</p><p>     So the three found themselves intently watching the scene before them, eyes transfixed on the miniature students with concentration. While others situated near the trio were humouring their stubborn interest in the kids, even they couldn't help but wonder where the small boy now stepping onto the stool might find himself. His face was laced with fear, and he'd already caused quite the disturbance after refusing to let go of his friends hand, the two clawing onto eachother until they no longer could.</p><p>    This came in the form of Professor McGonagall <b><em>(</em></b> or in the marauders words, minnie <b><em>)</em></b> who had to physically rip him from the other, causing a blubber of cries to escape the students mouths. Marella had researched each houses characteristics before attending, so she knew exactly what to look for—and it did certainly help that she was an expert at reading people.</p><p>     "He looks like trouble." Oscar said with a small chuckle, "Gryffindor."</p><p>     "I agree." Bridget nodded with a stern certainty knitted in her tone.</p><p>     "Hufflepuff." Marella then blurted out, clashing with Bridget and Oscar's answer. She could tell by the expressions displayed on their faces that they didn't think she would be right, but the girl thought otherwise. Infact she <em>knew</em> otherwise, and wasn't about to go back on her word.</p><p>      The hat dragged on for a long few minutes, leaving the small group of Ravenclaws to await with impatience. When the fabric finally bellowed out the house, Marella was left feeling satisfied <b><em>(</em></b> though not entirely surprised <b><em>)</em></b> whereas her friends looked back at her with shock.</p><p>      Once Oscar had composed himself, he let out a small laugh at Marella's accuracy, though Bridge didn't share this same expression — an overly-dramatic groan escaping her mouth, before she looked up at Marella. "You got lucky new girl." Bridget's shoulder bumped into hers light-heartedly.</p><p>     But by the tenth correct guess, it was safe to assume that it was certainly was not luck Marella held in her palms.</p><p>     "This ones gotta be slytherin!" Bridget said, her eyes now beady as she leant forward to look at the baby-faced brunette. "She's got that pure evil, snarly face."</p><p>    Marella blinked, "She's adorable!"</p><p>     "Not every evil person goes in slytherin." Oscar began to lecture, but he was quickly taken back in dismay as he received a sharp flick to his forehead from Bridget.</p><p>       "Although Oscar's right, I'm fairly certain she will be in Slytherin. She's part of the sacred twenty-eight, a Shafiq." Marella explained, "Most of the time they end up in Slytherin." her pupils grazed against the child with intrigue, awaiting to see if her prediction would prove to be truthful.</p><p>      "Yeah, why is that?" Oscar broke her daze, his face now engulfed with interest — one that Marella knew was impossible to deflate.</p><p>    "Salaza Slytherin, the man who founded the house, was well — a prejudice bastard. <em>To put it lightly</em>. Most pure-blooded kids end up there." She said, before adding onto her sentence with a fact she had carried inside her head for years. "And he was the one who apparently created 'the chamber of secrets'."</p><p>     "Oh that bloody thing?" Oscar practically shouted, "Bridge is obsessed, keeps making stupid conspiracy theories about it, I'd just gotten her to shutu—"</p><p>     "Go on! Tell me more." Bridget interrupted the boy, her glowing face now cupped in her hands as she sent the girl a toothy smile.</p><p>     Oscar merely let out a tetchy moan, quickly removing himself from the conversation by decorating the parchment with small stars. "Slazar only selected students to be put in Slytherin who were pure-blood, but overtime he began to become wary of wizards from muggle families even joining the school. He tried to get the other founders to ban them completely, which <em>obviously</em> failed. So he decided to leave the school, but the rumour is that he left behind a chamber which held some creepy Basilisk."</p><p>     "So what's the purpose of the chamber?"</p><p>     "Well it was constructed to purge the school of muggle-borns."</p><p>     "How?"</p><p>     "<em>Merlin</em> Bri, give the girl a break."</p><p>     Marella let out a small laugh before reassuring her, "Its okay, I don't mind. Theres an heir to the chamber, and that student can control the Basilisk — which then would have the ability to kill off the muggle-borns."</p><p>     "Allegedly." Oscar added before going back to his doodle, an arrogant smirk plastered on his innocent face. While Marella assumed he'd done this to prove Bridget's theory false, what she didn't conceive was that the statement had only been spoken to reassure himself.</p><p>     "Yes allegedly," Marella then laughed.</p><p>     "Alright you two." The boy said as he waved the piece of paper in the air. "We've already missed five people being sorted, lets get back to the game."</p><p>     "Yes mother." Bridget groaned, which resulted in a response of a sharp middle-finger from her friend. "And they think you're the nice one." she muttered under her breath dramatically.</p><p>     Marella's index finger intertwined with her middle when she caught sight of the next student. Kaia, the youngest child of Cascade and Arroyo, found herself stepping into the center of the room, making her presence known to the endless rows of students. Marella was now praying to merlin <b><em>(</em></b> or whatever god up there, religion conflicted her <b><em>)</em></b> that she was put in either Slytherin or Ravenclaw.</p><p>    If Kaia were to be put in Slytherin, Marella was certain the house would change her sister, making her alike the rest of her discriminatory family, but still—it was better than what she <em>would</em> suffer from her family if she were to be placed in Hufflepuff or Gryffindor. Because Marella would not be able to take the blame for that one, and Marella couldn't bare to see her sister endure even a slight ounce of the pain she had.</p><p>     "Definitely a Hufflepuff, I can see it in her eyes." Bridget laughed with ease, but only received a stern glare from the girl next to her. Marella groaned out a response—"Don't say that, shes my sister."</p><p>     "So?"</p><p>     "If she doesn't get put in either Ravenclaw or Slytherin then she's pretty much dea—" Marella cut her sentence short, unable to finish it completely, though it didn't seem to matter as the two friends were able to pick up immediately on what she'd been initiating.</p><p>    They thus shot a worried glare at eachother before turning back to Marella, Oscar clearing the awkward tension. "Er- are your parents...blood supremacists?" his voice had been quivery with perturb, and Marella was able to notice the sudden shift in his body language. It had been instantaneous.</p><p>     "Yeah," she watched as the pairs faces morphed into mix of fear and annoyance: eyebrows raising, lips slightly parted as if they were itching to fire out slander. Marella had never seen people react like this, purely because she was accustomed to a darker set of beliefs.</p><p>         Ilvermorny may have been the more liberal school in comparison to the likes of Durmstrang and Uagadou, but the pupils who attended all appeared to be <em>severely</em> pure-blooded. The ratio was absurd; only four muggle-borns in her whole year.</p><p>    "Im not like them though." she quickly stated, causing their hesitation towards her to slightly subside. "I really don't believe the same shit as them." Marella spoke slowly, attempting to erase the picture they'd already created of her.</p><p>     "—<em>SLYTHERIN</em>." The hat howled, causing Marella's head to flicker back over towards her sister, lament beginning to creep over her face. She was able to catch a glimpse at her sisters complexion, now clashing against Marella's as it beamed relief.</p><p>    The Ravenclaw knew the house difference would only cause a wedge in their relationship, pushing Kaia further towards the fiendish path of darkness their families craved for them. She couldn't process the fact her sister might possibly hate her one day, eyes hardening to aversion when she caught sight of Marella. If she lost Kaia, she would loose everything, and it seemed the girl was already slipping from her grasp.</p><p> </p><p>𐐪𐑂<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p><b>     —AFTER A PROTRACTED AMOUNT </b>of time; where each child was established to their corresponding house, and a feast had been teared apart by the hands of hungry students, the hall was then emptied. Marella made her way through the bending corridors, pulled along by the likes of Oscar and Bridget who were acting as guides, leading her towards the Ravenclaw common room she had yet to see. The girl strolled along with a smug grin on her face, once she shot towards Bridget every few minutes <b><em>( </em></b>who certainly did not return it <b><em>) </em></b>out of satisfaction for winning the game.</p><p>     But she'd barely gotten past the first-floor when she felt a sudden tug on her arm, and with turning around she was greeted by the marauders once more. "<em>Ey</em> a Ravenclaw then," Sirius laughed out, a small smile curving its way around his chapped lips. "Guess it payed off that we're friends, bet you can do our homework now." he stepped closer, words slipping off his tongue with little remorse. Remus sighed at his friends remark, giving Marella a look of apology, one which had a sympathetic undertone.</p><p>     The girl responded to Remus with a shrug, before turning back to Sirius, fire burning through her bones at his arrogant comment. Maybe she would've brushed the comment off with little care if she hadn't just caught him hexing a variety of first-year Slytherins as they left the hall. So her eyes narrowed, and she spoke the true confrontation others found themselves too scared to say. "There's the second assumption you made on a house today." she said sternly, though the bounce in her tone unsettled every viewer who had gathered to watch the scene unfold.</p><p>    "—You act as if you're not like your family, yet i've seen you bully multiple Slytherins just for being placed in that house. Seems a bit like the Black's view on Gryffindor, don't you think? I understand as to why you don't like the house right now, but that doesn't give you the right to play superior over everyone at this school. Not all Slytherins are bad, and you sure as fuck don't get to torment the ones you don't like the look of." after that everyone stole silently, and instead of being faced with a sheepishly pale teenager, she saw one who's face was now poisoned crimson, a look of disgust shooting towards her silently.</p><p>    "—<em>And</em> i'd rather severe my hands off before i even thought about doing, fuck even helping you with your homework." and with that she turned her back on him, sharpness radiating her posture. Her hands reached out and grabbed the two Ravenclaws, tugging them away from the huddles of kids who'd now gathered to watch.</p><p>     She knew she shouldn't really have blown up on the boy, but it wasn't anything he didn't have coming. She just hoped her words would be taken into consideration, though she couldn't shake off the <em>small</em> feeling erupting inside of her; telling the girl they'd just be discarded to the back of his mind, rendered useless.</p><p>     "Marella!" Oscar shrieked loudly, breaking free from her clutch. "I wanted to hear Black's response, you should've seen his face. <em>Priceless</em>."</p><p>     Bridget didn't say anything at first, before snapping back to reality. "Oh <em>uh</em> yea, what the fuck Ella?" she said softly, though she made no effort to break from the girls possession — happily being dragged up the stairs.</p><p>     "Ella, cute." The girl laughed, a happiness radiating in the pits of her stomach — for she had never been close enough with anyone to develop nicknames. She gradually released Bridget from her grip when her breath turned shaky. "Merlin! Bridge was I pulling all of your weight there?"</p><p> </p><p>𐐪𐑂<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p><b>     —"YOU MEASURE MY LIFE</b><br/><em>in hours and I serve you by expiring. I'm quick when I'm thin and slow when I'm fat. The wind is my enemy." </em>The eagle knocker riddled the trio before him, and seeing as they missed the fleet of first years who were given the answer by the prefects, they were going to have to figure it out on their own. Which to their dismay wasn't as easy as they initially thought it would be.</p><p>     The three shot eachother blank expressions of obliviousness, unable to figure out the answer they needed. "How did you three get put in Ravenclaw." the eagle muttered with harshness, which it was then startled to receive a middle finger from both Oscar and Marella.</p><p>     "A candle." A girl behind the pair spoke, the voice causing Marella to turn around in a sudden haze. In that moment her pupils trailed down the girl, carving her identity into the mind of Marella as it did everyone else she encountered. Her face appeared to be strongly defined, with curly locks softening the maturity her face showcased as they hung near her upper neck.</p><p>    The strangers unique features paired with her tanned skin made her striking to look at, the type of beauty that was plain to see but truly rare. Though as Marella observed deeper, she was able to notice something else; from the way she wrapped her arms around herself tightly, to the way she refused to make eye contact, Marella was able to tell that the stranger was reserved — closed off from others. Maybe it was fairly obvious, only being because she was shy, or <em>maybe</em> it went deeper than that. Marella couldn't tell, nor was it any of her business. She had pried enough, so she dropped it.</p><p>     "Thanks Adara," Oscar said as the door flung open, giving them access to the Common Room. The girl made a mental note of the fellow Ravenclaw's name, stapling it alongside her face in the trenches of her mind.</p><p>     Marella stepped inside the room, feet crushing against the floor as she took in the scenery. Her eyes had shifted across the large room with an newfound intensity, desperate to observe it all. Captivating silks dangled from the glassed ceiling, their royal blue colour draped with delicacy across the white walls, infusing the area with a regal aesthetic. Glassed arches stood alongside these fabrics, appearing quite wide in their oval structure</p><p>    The golden frames that held these windows started out thick before gradually meeting at a point. Bookcases also flooded the room, each carrying a different story to the last — not one repeating itself. Individuality in every single page. Chairs, desks and seating areas were dotted around the airy room, but that's not what caught Marella's eyes...The domed roof now exposing the starry night sky, its moon beams shining onto the carpeted floor did.</p><p>     "It shows the mountain view during the day." Bridget leant over to say as she watched the girl with happiness. "Its pretty cool."</p><p>     Marella nodded in awe, her full attention being grabbed by the enthralling room. Ilvermornys rooms were dull and plain, stripped from any colour — seemingly melancholy to ones view. But everything she saw before her was beautiful, yet it went deeper than that. The room spoke to her, as if every single graze and bump had been sculpted for her individually. Which made sense since she'd been picked for that house, yet a small part of her still assumed she was meant to be in Slytherin.<br/> <br/>      It wasn't an insult, well atleast the girl didn't perceive it that way, she was just glad she hadn't been placed in there. Worried that it would make her Hogwarts experience just like Ilvermony, worried that her family might start to see potential in her again, <em>worried it might change her.</em></p><p>     The girl wasn't sure if she would be able to sleep that night, for her sleeping schedule was detrimental. At the manor late nights were common, the dark blue bags hanging under her eyes deeming this statement correct. Her finger found themselves grazing against the slopes, while they were concealed by layers of thick foundation, she could still feel the scaly texture of them. Just as she could feel the heavy weight they carried, and while she was desperate for a full nights sleep, Marella had to consider the fact that Hogwarts might not be any different. As someone doesn't just change overnight, nor does the world around them.</p><p>     After a few minutes of admiration, Marella made her way towards a towering bookcase — her palm trailing against their bodies as her eyes flickered back and forth, scanning for a book to occupy her if needed. Reading had became her saviour, distracting her from the ongoing burn of sickness insomnia brought with it, and the ever-fresh wounds pressed into her flesh.</p><p>     "You coming up?" Bridget said, moving towards the girl after a few minutes of browsing. She placed a hand on her shoulder, "It's getting pretty late, and we have classes tomorrow."</p><p>     "Oh yeah, <em>yeah</em>." Marella responded, tucking the few books she'd found into her cloak pocket before following her new friend up the steep staircase.<br/>▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃<br/><br/></p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. long way from home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
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    <em>REMEMBERING IS ONLY A NEW FORM </em>
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    <em>OF SUFFERING</em>
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    <em>_________________________________</em>
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</p><p><b>—MARELLA AWOKE IN THE </b><br/>prematurehours of the morning, when the sun was yet to rise and life was still vacant. The blooming draft that crept across her skin sent a disgruntled shudder down her spine, her body now longing for the warming rays of summer to return. She was laid flat against her mattress; cropped grey tee and a pair of loose shorts clinging onto her as she pulled the duvet harder against her cold flesh. Marella supposed it was only her own fault, as she had chosen such scanty clothing for bed, and was now paying the repercussions of that decision.</p><p>     The silence which filled the atmosphere thickly disgruntled the girl, so she turned her body to the side, knees pressing into her stomach as she cradled her limbs into a disclosed ball. Her eyelids lingered open for a few moments, before pressing shut, engulfing the girl into the darkness once more. But when she wasn't met with unconsciousness, sleep denying her request of rest, her mind found itself trailing to her home, and the memories that laid within those walls.</p><p>    During the prolonged christmas, she'd spent the majority of her time slowly decaying in the basks of her room. A choice which hadn't been hers to make, leaving her in a repetitive cycle of awakening early to check if they'd finally unlocked the bedroom door. That was if she'd ever slept at all, her eyes sore and bloodshot crimson, weak to the naked light, but still too scared to finally shut. It had taken countless hours for Marella to even gather the courage to close her eyes last night, the psychological wounds of her family still affecting her drastically, and when she did finally seal them, she was met with emptiness. It was a nice change.</p><p>But the dorm she now sat within was dissimilar to where she found herself at the end of last year, a time she didn't like to reminisce about. It seemed that her memories of the manor hung over her mind, a plague of darkness she couldn't outrun. The house she was once in was ashy grey, where omniscient shadows of the unknown stood in the corner and stared as Marella restlessly forced herself into alertness, a rooted paranoia of what may touch her as she finally let her eyes close now.</p><p>    The girl wasn't sure if the real monsters were in fact paranormal, or just imaginary personas she had sculpted of her own parents. Because the part of her brain which still grasped onto the last remainder of youthfulness couldn't admit that the only monsters of her own story, were infact <b><em>her</em></b> family. <b><em>Her</em></b> flesh. <b><em>Her</em></b> blood. </p><p>A pin could be dropped on the glass floor of the manor, slipped from the clutch of ones hands, and while it would appear to be chillingly quiet, the whole home and its inhabitants would hear. The rooms were spaciously vast, decorated differently in accordance to what Cascade and Arroyo wanted in the moment, but they still appeared to be connected. Marella could hear <em>everything</em> the night her parents first hit her older sister, Marin.</p><p>   From the pleading screams that pierced the girls mind to the initial silence which edged over the house, where Marin's voice was too sore and tired to continue, causing her to just lie there, silently screaming. For someone, anyone, but Marella was locked in. She couldn't help her, for she was trapped, just as her sister was. And even through the thickening pleads of their daughters shrieks, the Bardot's still heard the tiny murmurs of Marella sobbing on the floor, bundled up, limbs pressed against eachother.</p><p>    After awhile she got used to holding her breath, letting the tears fall down her rosy cheeks but never making a sound, because if they heard her — she was consequently next.</p><p>Marella used to think that being lonely was a curse, to only have oneself as company, but nothing could prepare the little girl for what she would endure around others. Soon the idea of isolation wasn't what feared her, but being around those who only wanted to rupture her with both psychological and physical abuse was. <em>Her family.</em></p><p>    Marella wasn't sure how long she'd been within her own space, revisiting the harsh wounds of her past, but as she finally peeled open her wet eyes, she was met with the burning blaze of yellow rays. They plunged through the oval windows, creating beams of light which then shon against the girls beds. So she finally pulled herself up, hairs thus jolting into a standing as she hurried to find her uniform for the day.</p><p>It was only after she'd soaked her body into full alertness by the piercing rivulets of a cold shower did she think to awake Bridget. As she slipped her wet hair into a loose ponytail, leaving the air around her to dry it, she moved over towards the singular bed. Bridget could be found sprawled out across the mattress, loose sheets pressed against her figure, as she let out the occasional snore. Even after Marella had placed her palm against the girls frame, shaking her repetitively, Bridget stayed prostrate.</p><p>After countless minutes <b><em>( </em></b>though they felt more like long, drawn out hours to Marella <b><em>) </em></b>of attempting to get Bridget out of bed, three cushions being hauled against the stone wall and a piercing glare from Adara that hushed them into getting up quietly, they then made their way downstairs for breakfast. It was still fairly early, the shadow of the sun only beginning to rise in the far distance, and the amber light it carried was just starting to radiate the halls with a morning glow.</p><p>Marella began to make her way over to the Ravenclaw table, her stomach desperately churning for food, but to her dismay, was abruptly stopped as she felt a sharp hand on her wrist. The grip pulled her down onto an opposing houses bench, her body tumbling down onto the seat gauchely.</p><p>"Morning Mars." James sung out as he gathered a pile of golden pancakes, a small smirk creeping from his lips as he looked on at the girl. Marella snickered, muttering under her breath— "Of course it's them." it appeared she couldn't escape the four marauders, their presence being everywhere she wished to go.</p><p>Marella then rolled her eyes theatrically, taking a small muffin from the banquet before them. As she gripped onto the food, the boys' heads turned to look at her, their eyebrows raised in a strangely coordinated manner. "What? You're the one who pulled me down here." she said sternly before her voice became muffled, for she had shoved a piece of the cake into her mouth.</p><p>"You calmed down after your little blowup last night?" Sirius said as he kicked his feet up onto the bench, stretching out his stiffened limbs. Remus and Peter shot eachother a glance as their friend spoke, before shaking their heads in irritation.</p><p>"I—" The girl could only blink in shock, her jaw tensing firmly as her face hardened with vexation. Taking a quick look down at the food, she made the quickened decision to sacrifice it. The muffin then left her grasp, launching itself towards the face of Sirius Black, to which it landed directly below his lips — hitting his chin before cascading down his body. "You served well muffin." she muttered towards it — now smushed against the boys uniform.</p><p>Sirius let out a short laugh, his grin widening as he shook his head slightly. He picked the food off his lap, taking a bite from it as he muttered a <em>thankyou</em> while chewing. "I think she likes me." he then said, leaning towards Remus once the muffin had been consumed. The Lupin turned towards Marella, a deep exhale escaping his lips, to which Sirius' voice grew louder. "What? She definitley—"</p><p>"Morning Marella," Remus interrupted his friend, attempting to diffuse the growing tension as he sent Sirius a nudge. One that simply said <em>stop! </em>as it pierced against his lower waist.</p><p>"Hey Remus, how are you?" her face eased into calmness, and instead of a deep firm frown engraved on her lips, the marauders were surprised to see a large grin take its place.</p><p>James held his hand to his heart in response to this, a gasp escaping his mouth. "Why didn't we all get this greeting?"</p><p>"I apologise." Marella said before turning to Peter, flashing him a toothy smile. "Good morning Peter." she looked down at the book he was reading today, <em>to kill a mockingbird.</em> "Oh! I love that book, what chapter are you on?"</p><p>     Peters mouth fell open, he hadn't expected for someone amongst a school of magic to notice the muggle book he was reading — especially a girl from a well-known, prejudice family. To say he had been caught off guard, was a severe understatement. "I-I...g-g."</p><p>"Mate you've broken him." Sirius laughed as he shook the flustered boys body, "Come on wormtail, come back to us."</p><p>"I'm here!" he said after a few seconds, before flipping the book over to Marella, flashing the page infront of her for a brief moment before he returned to his silent reading.</p><p>"I never understood those nicknames you have for eachother," Marella muttered as she picked up a piece of toast, scraping off the excessive amount of butter that was plastered on it. "What do they mean?"</p><p>Remus froze on the spot, unable to answer, luckily for him James had already diverted the attention away from the sheepish boy and onto himself. Something he seemed to do often, enjoying the attention a little too much. "Inside joke really." he said whilst fumbling his hand through his hair, playing off her question with ease.</p><p>Marella merely shrugged, unbothered by the groups vague answer, causing Lupin to release the hefty breath he'd been holding in. Marella looked up at the boys, and then to her own table. "Well if you haven't got anything to actually say to me, i'll be on my way."</p><p>"Not so fast <em>love</em>." Sirius said, his eyebrows raising as he leant across the table, elbows puncturing the wooden structure. His shirt's sleeves had been cuffed, giving full view of a small inky cross tattooed near his wrist. "How did you do it?"</p><p>"How did I do what?"</p><p>"Set fire to your house." he scoffed as if the vague question had been obvious.</p><p>Marella pulled herself up quickly, limbs jolting back into awareness. She found herself questioning why every word that escaped Sirius Black's mouth made her tense with agitation, she was really starting to understand the feud between the families now. "Not this shit again, can you just drop it?" she bit at the four marauders, her face becoming sharper as she looked on at them, eyes slanting slightly.</p><p>    Although she didn't care for the speculation arousing on what she had previously done, she didn't want to be known for it. There was so many more layers of Marella Bardot than just her burning down a pureblooded families house.</p><p>     Infact, it wasn't even one of her finest acts.</p><p>"Come on! We just want to know." James turned, his eyes widening whilst he shot the girl a pleasant smile. She could tell he was prone to getting what he wanted, and it appeared this time wouldn't prove to be any different.</p><p>    Though she didn't do it for his <em>sickly</em> face, but because she knew the subject wouldn't be dropped if she didn't cooperate with them now. Atleast that's what she told herself, pretending she hadn't noticed the good genes Potter most clearly held.</p><p>"I set the incedio spell off on my dinner table, turns out fire spreads fast." Marella answered vaguely before shoving the slice of toast in her mouth, leaving the four of them alone to join the table of blue.</p><p>"I didn't realise you were so cosy with the marauders." Bridget smirked as Marella sat down on an empty space near the usual two, the Ravenclaw girls attention being solely on a piece of brown hair which she slowly twisted around her index finger before releasing, thus left with a temporary curl.</p><p>"I'm not." Marella said with a singular laugh. "I wasn't exactly there by choice." the girl then added as she poured herself a long glass of pumpkin juice, her hands clasping around the glass as she began to pour the cool liquid down her dry throat.</p><p>"You're friends with the marauders?" Oscar reacted lately, his mouth gape and his eyes widening.</p><p>    "Of course you're interested." Bridget teased, and with that Marella began to assume he may have a certain thing for one of them. She just hoped it wasn't Sirius Black, <em>for no other reason </em>than his presence being a burden to her.</p><p>    So Marella looked up, her eyebrows crumpling in confusement as she watched her friend turn bright crimson red— a blotchy blush spreading across his pale cheeks that he couldn't hide.</p><p>    Bridget battered her eyelashes, as she began to mock her friend. "<em>Oh Remmy! Wait up, of course i'll take your notes for you! You're ill, let me get food for you!"</em></p><p>     Remus. Probably the most understandable marauder he could fall for, and she wasn't exactly repulsed at the idea of them being together. Because he was <em>good</em>, and so was Oscar. If any two deserved eachother, they did. Yet Oscar didn't respond to Bridget's accusations, instead his voice went louder as he attempted to speak over his friend. "Says you! I see the way you look at Marlene."</p><p>Bridget stopped her impression of Oscar, a fake look of betrayal plastering itself across her pale face. "I'll have you know that I don't like her anymore!" she said proudly before taking a sip of her water, only then finishing her sentence. "I realised that would never happen, so i've moved on."</p><p>"Spill!" Oscar said eagerly, "Who is it?"</p><p>Bridget only shrugged in response, a smirk present as she took a longer slurp of the beverage in her hands. Marella looked between the two, before bursting into a fit of laughter, truthfully she was just glad to be around normal people. <em>She could get used to this. </em></p><p><em>    "</em>You two are adorable." Marella then teased as she began to pick up food from the varied plates, her body already desperate for more fuel.</p><p>"We are not." They said together, crossing their arms.</p><p>"Whatever you say." The girl sung, an obvious grin now taking over her face — one she didn't bother to hide. But before they had chance to fire back at her, they were interrupted by none other than Remus Lupin himself.</p><p>Bridget nearly chocked on her water, letting out a disgruntled cough that then erupted into a series of giggles — while Oscar could only stare in shock, cursing the universe for the boys awful timing.</p><p>    His face was stunned, and he seemed to of frozen in his spot, clutching onto a fork which slightly shook in his palm. Remus flashed a welcoming smile, obliviously handing out the timetables for the next year, though the grin had been a gesture mostly aimed at Oscar as their eyes met for a lengthy moment.</p><p>    The two girls flickered their heads around, a knowing expression being sent to one another as Oscar attempted to reciprocate this smile, yet their eye contact had completely thrown him off balance. His face hung with shock, but his cheeks tinted scarlet with embarrassment.</p><p>     The moment, in Marella's own words, was fucking adorable. Infact she had practically planned their wedding from just that encounter alone. The girl wasn't one to melt, infact she swore that she was made out of obsidian, <em>but those two</em>.</p><p>   Yet their shared moment had been cut short by Bridget abruptly slamming her head down onto the table, a piercing groan escaping her lips. Marella shook the girl gently, "Are you okay, or did you just turn into some sort of fucking zombie?"</p><p>Bridget finally pulled herself up, after emitting a few more moans. "Alright merlin woman, you're going to give me a seizure." she laughed as she finally brushed the girls grasp off her, then shoving the timetable into Marellas hands as an answer to her previous question.</p><p>"I think i'd rather turn into a zombie, or even endure a bloody seizure than have potions first." Remus laughed as he stood before the trio. "I don't understand that class, at all." he then added with a hint of misery in his tone.</p><p>"Have you ever thought it's because you sit next to the most distracting people?" Bridget asked — head rotating round towards the boy. "The amount of times i've seen them slip shit into your potions."</p><p>Remus let out a singular laugh, which was elegantly sarcastic, before continuing to hand out the pieces of parchment, refusing to respond to the accusation the girl had just made. Though he knew it was true, as did the two others, and Marella was beginning to catch onto this aswell.</p><p>"Then look, we have divination after. This is officially the worst morning." Bridget said dimly, "Do you think a butter knife would be sharp enough to kill me?"</p><p>Marella actually enjoyed divination, being the only subject she appeared to be interested in while attending school. But while the magic sides of the lessons were definitely interesting, she found herself diving into a lesser-known area of the practice — closely linked amongst muggles.</p><p>Marella shrugged as she took a bite of the croissant Oscar had been tugging at for a few moments, still too stunned to bring himself to eat. "I like it." she said through a muffled voice. </p><p> </p><p>𐐪𐑂</p><p> </p><p><b>—AS MARELLA'S FEET HIT </b><br/>the concrete steps, carrying her down the staircase and towards the potions classroom, the raspy frostiness of the dungeons began to creep against her skin — frigid air nipping onto her bones. From the moment it brushed against her face she was conveyed back home, the icy atmosphere being far too familiar to ignore.</p><p>    It seemed that everywhere she went, she was cursed with seeing pieces of that place, tainting her mind forever with traumatic reconciliations. Even Hogwarts couldn't take this away from her — infact she wasn't sure if anywhere could. "Fuck it's freezing down here, how do the slytherins survive?" she muttered to herself briskly.</p><p>"They're cold blooded, it doesn't affect them." Sirius said as he draped an arm around Marella, which she then refused to react to: shoving him off before it could make contact with her. "You're just prejudice." she said in response, her eyes lingering on his for a moment before breaking the glance and thus fastening her pace.</p><p>A darkened classroom stood before Marella, one which she couldn't help but observe as she stepped inside. Rows of scattered potions lay on rusty shelves, each varying size and colour, their uses unknown to the girl. The interior of the place was unadorned, with brown bricked walls that towered above Marella and only small dainty lights to brighten up the murky classroom.</p><p>The girl took a seat near the back, where she was adjacent from the professors eyeview, taking out her potions book and her battered cauldron quickly. It had became known to the girl she was utterly awful at potions, so she hadn't bothered to buy a new cauldron this year, knowing it would only end up deteriorated.</p><p>     It wasn't the written work she struggled with, in fact she did significantly well in that area when she put effort in, it was the creation of the potions she struggled with. It seemed she got distracted easily, and before she knew it, her mixture had gone an imprecise colour.</p><p>Marella's head turned to the desk next to her, catching a glimpse of Oscar and Bridget taking their seats. Once they diverted their eyes to the girl now sitting on her own, she mouthed the word <em>ditchers</em> dramatically, her hand pressing against her heart. She received an apologetic look from Oscar in response, his innocent face laced with remorse while Bridget only seemed to blow the girl a kiss, unguilty.</p><p>"Hey can I sit here?" a quiet voice brought Marella away from her friends and onto the girl she'd previously met the preceding night. So she nodded in response, a smile gesturing towards Adara to join her.</p><p>It was only a few minutes into the lesson when Marella found herself falling into a sudden state of dreariness, the consequences of another late night taking a toll on both her education and her disgruntled mind. The girl's head fell into the face of her hand, unable to carry its own weight any longer, and soon she shifted into a state of light sleeping.</p><p>After a long and tiring hour of Slughorn rambling on about the draught of peace, something Marella had payed no attention to, the lesson came to a gradual end. Once she was jolted back into awareness by the rumbling clutters of students getting up, Marella waisted no time in following after them, to which she slipped her unused cauldron back into her bag.  </p><p>    The girl sitting next to her, Adara, continued to scribble notes down, making sure to absorb every last word into her parchment. "Shit, we were actually supposed to write stuff down?" Marella moaned as she flung her bag over her shoulders, looking up at the board to see the assignment set was linked to the notes.</p><p>"You didn't?" Adara looked up, concernment washed over her face as she finally stopped writing, her attention drawn to the girl now standing opposite her.</p><p>"No?" Marella grinned before bending over, resting her beaming face in the palms of her hand, which was now leaning against the desk. "Please can I borrow yours?" she smiled at the stranger, her eyes darting between the parchment paper and Adara's face.</p><p>Adara let out a sigh, "Fine. I want them back by the weekend though." she then agreed hostilely as she passed over the pages of parchment, "You're lucky you're so charming." she added under her breath, causing Marella's grin to only brighten.</p><p>"Thankyou, <em>Love you</em>." Marella then called out quickly as she shoved the paper into her bag, bidding the girl goodbye quickly. "Shit did I just say love you to her?" Marella then thought as she opened the classrooms door, stepping outside.</p><p>"Declarations of love on the first day of class?" Sirius smirked as he blocked her pathway, his firm build standing in the way. "You're full of surprises Bardot."</p><p>Marella groaned, stopping her feet before she bumped into his chest. "And you're annoying me, let me past."</p><p>"Those words, Mar, are music to my ears."</p><p>"What do you want?" The girl eyed him up, her lips slightly parted as she let her gaze linger on him.</p><p>"I have a proposition."</p><p>"Of course you bloody do," she groaned in response. "Well spit it out then."</p><p>"You're so hostile." he laughed as his warm hands gripped onto her arm, pulling her out of the way of the moving students. "Come to my house for christmas." he then said as he let go of her skin, the cold pulsing back to the spot that had been concealed by his grip.</p><p>Marella's lips let out a small chuckle, one that made the boy opposite her smile, but to his surprise the girls laugh only grew. From a giggle it erupted into a fit of laughter, one which took her a few breathless moments to recover from.</p><p>    But as she looked up, her face dropped instantly. The realisation hitting her harder than the coldness present in the air, "You're being <em>serious</em> right now?"</p><p>"Well actually, I'm alway—" he was paused by Marellas hand, which she had bluntly raised to stop his words. "Sirius, why would you ask me that?" she asked with a sudden jolt of sedateness, one that confused him — due to the fact that seconds ago she could hardly stand for her roar of hystericals.</p><p>"Because I want to piss off my parents." he said as he clasped onto her hand and began to lower it, "I can just imagine good old mother's face when she hears your last name." But to the boys suprise, she didn't respond back with reaction he initially thought she would, instead she callously brushed her shoulder against his as she then moved past him—merely responding with a middle finger.</p><p>"I am so fed up with this day <em>already</em>," Marella spat as she took a seat between Oscar and Bridget in divination, her limbs sulking into the chair she now found herself perched on. After storming through the hallways, the Gryffindors comment drilling itself in her head, she was glad to find herself in a lesson distant to the red-tied students.</p><p>The room before her was remarkably winsome, with blood-red curtains draped around the stone structure of the class, decorating the crumbling walls. A weathering scent of hot tea and herbal leaves engulfed Marellas nose slowly, and as she eased into the seat she couldn't help but relax, the room smelt of home, comfort. <em>Safety</em>. Her body was finally given chance to drop, now within a space to clearly think about what the Black had said.</p><p>Her mind couldn't grasp exactly what he'd been implying, because the idea he had came at her with was so idiotically stupid. A tinge of hurt stung in her chest as she realise the amount of harm she would of been endured to if she'd agreed, from both her family and his — did he know this, or was he only thinking of himself, that she was uncertain on. Marella understood he wanted to anger his parents, as she did hers.</p><p>    But the stakes were different, the two of them together were fated to darkness, engulfed in their parents hatred for one another. And Marella wasn't ready to see their response to his presence being closely associated to hers.</p><p>"You okay?" Oscar asked, "You seem a bit off?"</p><p>"What?" Marella said as she flickered back to the present, her eyes shifting to the boy before her. "Oh i'm okay, just...<em>tired</em>." she lied through gritted teeth, which seemed to be believable, because he dropped the subject before it could be mentioned further;</p><p><em>....</em><em>Safety. Home.</em><br/>▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃</p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. raw autumn days</h2></a>
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    <em>I MET EVIL WHEN I WAS </em>
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    <em>ONLY A CHILD</em>
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    <em>________________________</em>
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</p><p><b>  —THE MARAUDERS WEREN'T </b><br/><b>POPULAR. </b>It had taken awhile for Marella Bardot to find this slice of information out, four days to be precise. They were the <em>bad</em> guys. Tainted with rebellion, renegaded to the rules that laced Hogwarts. If you asked Gryffindor who the four marauders were, they'd praise them as if they were higher figures, golden royalty amongst murky peasants. But to Hufflepuff they were too harsh, and Ravenclaw too annoying, and Marella didn't even dare repeat what Slytherin had said.</p><p>     At the start of the week she had wanted to stay away, dodge their path of cluttered destruction, but the marauders crept over her like a pungent smell. One she couldn't escape from, seeping into her clothes and hair, latching themselves onto her with adamant force. They were everywhere, and that appeared to be the small seed which then grew into a blossomed tree, and soon she couldn't control her impulsive mind, she <em>had</em> to find out more on the delinquent boys.</p><p><b>     JAMES POTTER</b>, the boy with a heart sculpted from pure gold, it's yellow rays dripping down on anyone close to him, engulfing them in his powerful force of love. Born as the only child of Euphemia and Fleamont Potter, he was marked as a blessing, conceived when the Potters had given up. And while his head was sustainably large for his body, and the bitter cockiness slipping from his mouth was venomous to the people around him, he was <em>good</em>. Insatiably pining over an educated redhead, he was struck with the piercing weapon of Cupid's arrow, gouging into his body with a constant reminder that he was a Petrarchan lover towards a girl who would <em>always</em> be too good for him. Though this fact didn't bother him, merely mixing to create a rare substance: an unfaltering need to impress Lily Evans.</p><p><b>     REMUS LUPIN, </b>filled to the brim with striking kindness, and a brain twice the size of any regular human, his qualities played off to the marauders advantage. Casted to the shadows when a prank occurred, he stood within the darkness, tugging at the strings he had created so the stunt successfully worked. Without him, the group would've crumbled into a pile of grey ashes before it could even begin. Remus was the glue, sticking the three other boys together and holding them tightly in place. But it went deeper than that, for her had his own monsters, ones locked deep inside of him, begging to be let out — and they did, <em>monthly</em>. And while the bitter scratches engraved on his skin startled the girl, she didn't pry, because it was solely <em>his</em> business.</p><p><b>     PETER PETTIGREW, </b>the boy always seen with a cigarette pressed up against his chapped lips, who drank cold coffee religiously and never seemed to sleep. His head was usually buried deep within a book or newspaper, submerged within a different reality to his own. And while he was fairly insightful, he kept his voice scarce, only speaking when completely necessary.</p><p><b>     AND FINALLY, SIRIUS BLACK. </b><br/>The shining charm of the marauders, his hypnotising words able to coarse them out of trouble repeatedly, all while dragging along a posey of people enchanted by his appearance. Maybe it was the looks he'd been painted with, a true form of attractiveness to the eyes of everyone, or the reckless attitude he carried within his flesh. It was understandable, the idea of a smoked up guy, mysteriously rebelling against his families name while plotting relentless mischief around the castle. But they were only props to him, toys he manipulated into getting things done, and they were spelled over this. Nodding along, transfixed by his facial features. But just like any other, he had his own trauma, and they were <em>scarily</em> similar to Marella's own.</p><p><b>     TOGETHER </b>they were a strong group, sealed together with the likes of brotherhood. Each holding onto their own secrets, but still so close they shared details Marella couldnt even admit to herself. They weren't just pranks and taunting, but true friends that could go out on adventures, the world their oyster, but also spend a day as regular people, laughing and attempting to study. It was unlike any other friendship Marella had seen before, they were different and it interested her.</p><p>  She wanted to know more.</p><p>     Marella tugged her wet hair into a bun, the early morning air sinking into her drenched skin as she stood in a shower cubicle. The rash coldness of the water had sent the chills on her body into a standing, and her naked limbs were now desperately longing for the warmth of her uniform, even a towel would be better than nothing. The rivulets of water had stopped crushing down on her, but now she was left with only the raspy air as company.</p><p>     But she just stood there, her body effortlessly still and quiet, while her eyes stared on at the monotone space around her. It was <em>her</em> moment, the one thing she looked forward to, the reason that got her out of bed on a morning. Every feeling was heightened as she let her mind refresh itself, and for a brief second, the weight of everyone wasn't on her shoulders. She was light, not exactly happy but neither sad. And that was enough.</p><p>     She hoped in death this would be where she would lay to rest, whether it was a clinical bathroom or one drenched in all the gold riches could buy. It didn't matter.</p><p>     And then she was sent back to reality, a harsh stab in her gut, though the only thing seeping out of her stomach was anger at being disturbed. One moment. That's all she got each day, and now it had been cut short by the rash voices of girls lingering around the bathroom at a loud volume.</p><p>    The worst part had been the fact that they weren't inhabitants of the dorm room, just some fellow Ravenclaws desperate for a hot shower — this was all due to the marauders hexing every Ravenclaw and Slytherin bathroom but theirs. While Marella was glad they'd refrained from including her in the pranks, she was fairy pissed at the result it had thus caused.</p><p>𐐪𐑂</p><p>     —"<b>G'MORNING</b>." <b>OSCAR SAID ENTHUSIASTICALLY </b>, his happiness feasible to see as Marella made her way through the main hall, her hair still damp with water, and her mind ferociously pissed off due to <em>her</em> few seconds being ruined by the mouths of girls who just couldn't hold gossip in any longer. Although Marella agreed that Lucius Malfoy's chiseled jawline was an important conversation, it didn't need to be done so loudly at the current time.</p><p>     "Why are you two so happy?" Marella muttered as she took a seat at the long table, her eyes panning between a brightly shon Oscar and a grinning Bridget. Her face was ironic compared to theirs, pulsing with bitterness, polar opposite of her shining friends. "Seriously! What's going on?" the girl said with more force this time, eyebrows raising.</p><p>     "Oh shit she doesn't know." Bridget said as she turned to her best friend, discarding the crumpet previously in her hand. Oscar looked up, his eyes widening — "She doesn't know!" he then called out.</p><p>     Marella let out a rupturing cough, "She doesn't fucking know, so can you please tell her what there is to know."</p><p>     "Alright!" Oscar shot back at her, his voice raising slightly as he spat out the words, though he was hardly mad, for he continued to smile throughout. Bridget then kicked her feet up onto the lap of Marella, leaning closer as she briefly explained—"It's Hogsmeade weekend."</p><p>     "Hogs...what?" Marella asked with confusement.</p><p>     "It's this village we're allowed to visit  on weekends—" the boy began to explain before being hastily cut off by Bridget — "Its an all-magical place, full of shops and dainty pubs and cafes."</p><p>     Then realisation hit Marella, engulfing her in the bitter truth. <em>She couldn't go. </em>Marella could vaguely remember being sent a permission slip which needed to be signed, one her family had refused bluntly, though she didn't blame them — <em>for</em> she had just set their house on fire. She didn't have the energy to explain why she couldn't go, so instead she lied. It was too early, and Marella's mood was too harsh for the whole taboo topic of her family. "I don't think i'm gonna go, i've got a shitty headache."</p><p>     "You look fi—"</p><p>     "I'm not." Marella sternly said, and with that they dropped the subject, backing down immediately when they heard the tone of her voice, and the slight crack of pain she had let show. At this the girl let out a disguised sigh, relieved they knew when to stop.</p><p>     One brief moment of peace was all she had time to enjoy before the earth merely threw another obstacle in her path. If it wasn't her friends drilling her about Hogsmeade, or some girls bitching on, it was James Potter waving his arm in the air — trying to grasp her attention in the boldest way possible.               </p><p>"Of bloody course." Bridget shook her head at the messy haired Gryffindor, a sigh escaping her peachy lips.</p><p>     "I'm going to kill that boy." Marella then muttered bluntly to the two, before hauling her tired body up and making way towards the Gryffindor table once more. It felt like she was there more than her own house at this point. And that assumption only seemed to grow larger when she found herself looking down at a space in the bench. <em>A space they had saved for her</em>. "What is this?" she looked up at them.</p><p>     "A bench!" James answered with eagerness, beaming with happiness. Remus rolled his eyes at the boy, before pulling a hand through his own hair, scruffing it up.—"We kept a space for you." he explained, though the answer was fairly obvious, she just didn't expect it.</p><p>     It was strange, she wasn't used to people looking out for her. Ever since she was a little girl, the burden of her life was purely on her own hands, with no support or help. Marella leant from an early age that nobody was going to look out for her, and thus, her skin thickened.</p><p>    Constructing a tower around her outer shell, wary of those who genuinely looked out for her, because she had never been subject to this before. But as she took a seat a few boys had saved for her, she felt these walls tumble slightly, a dozen bricks falling into the abyss of her mind. "Thanks." she smiled.</p><p>     It was after Marella had finally ate that Sirius turned to her, a pressed together grin now knitted around his lips. With this, the girl turned to face him, her arms instinctively wrapping around her chest. He was about to do something stupid, she could sense it, his face appeared to give it away instinctively.</p><p>     "I was thinking-" he shuffled along the bench, "we could-" he scooted closer, "go to—"</p><p>     "No."</p><p>     "Hogsmeade toge—" Sirius blinked, the complacent smirk hanging from his lips starting to falter. "Wait what?"</p><p>     "I said, no."</p><p>     "You didn't even let me finish!" he hissed.</p><p>     "Go on then...." she said sarcastically.</p><p>     He primped his long hair. "That you and me, could go to Hogsmeade together...on a date." his confidence was peeking now — rock solid. Marella knew he had a reputation, something she didn't need to be told, but something that was fairly obvious.</p><p>    Marella bluntly refused to become another one of his followers, roped on the lull of Sirius Black, because she wasn't just a name on his list of conquests, atleast she didn't want to be. She was the one who created lists, not merely being a name on one.</p><p>     "No." Marella smiled, and with that it all came crashing down. Meaning both his ego and the bowl of cereal James had been holding onto. The girl flickered her head around, disturbed by the sudden jolt of noise, to which she saw James cracked up in a fit of laughter, finding the situation somewhat humorous.</p><p>     He looked between the pair, his head flicking back and forth, face now red. Sirius reached over and smacked the boy, "Shutup Pronge, you're infatuated on a girl who can't stand you, and Marella, are you sure?" he repeated his words, slower this time.</p><p>     Marella shrugged effortlessly, "Positive." she said before letting her hand brush up against Sirius jaw, now hanging open in shock, "What is up with you four and letting your mouths hang loose?" she said to the boy before pressing it back into place. "Anyways even if I did want to go, I couldn't. Parents haven't signed my slip."</p><p>     James let out a singular laugh, as if what she'd just said was the most idiotic thing he'd ever heard. Then again if it didn't come from his or Lily's lips, he deemed it stupid. "Neither does Sirius here, but like that's ever stopped us." the fuel in his voice was so powering that Marella believed him instantly, now intrigued to know more.</p><p>     "Of course it hasn't." Marella muttered lowly, "Alright then how do you get there?"</p><p>     James leant forward, pressing his finger up against her nose. "If we told you that, we'd have to kill you."</p><p>     "Alright, i'm down."</p><p>     "That—" James pulled away his finger, "That wasn't what you were supposed to say."</p><p> </p><p>𐐪𐑂</p><p> </p><p><b>     —"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU </b><br/>talked me into doing this." Marella called out loudly, causing a bitter shush to escape all four of the boys lips as they turned to face her — though she now couldn't see these agitated expressions they so dearly displayed. She held her hands out dramatically, muttering <em>alright jeez</em> under her breath.</p><p>     Marella found herself blackened from the world, a flimsy piece of fabric now casted over her eyes as she was lead towards a secret pathway. She didn't understand why they cared so much, for she was likely to never use it again. Nevertheless she finally gave in to their insufferable moaning and put on the damming shield, satisfying the boys to go forward with their elaborate plan; which was to sneak both Sirius and Marella into Hogsmeade. "Ow thats my foot!" a boisterous voice called out, to which she assumed was James.</p><p>     "James! I can't help it, he keeps touching my hair." Marella fought back, snapping the hand of Sirius Black away from the waves hung at her shoulders.</p><p>     "I was observing them!" he called out in defence, before turning to the girl. "Why are they still wet?" he pondered curiously as he hesitantly picked up one of her strands.</p><p>     Marella assumed he was being annoying, making his presence known to the girl as she walked, though her initial thought appeared to be far from the real truth. Because the Black had only made an excuse to touch her hair, though he continued to state it was for observation only, and while he may of fooled his mind in the moment, he wouldn't be able to keep feeding himself lies to disguise the fact he only wanted to touch her.</p><p>     "Because I didn't dry them....?"</p><p>     "Yeah but you could've used a spell."</p><p>      "Didn't feel like it."</p><p>     "Can you two stop flirting for a moment?" Remus snapped around, taking a hold of the girl. He clasped his hands around her arm, tugging at it forward as he began to guide her.</p><p>     "Jealous Remus?" Both Marella and Sirius spat out at the same time, causing the boy to let out a loud groan — "You're as bad as eachother." he uttered towards the pair, his eyes sharply piercing both Marella and Sirius, though only one of them saw this look, replicating it comically in return.</p><p>    It took a lengthy hour until they had finally reached Hogsmeade, sixty minutes of time Marella Bardot would never get back. She was now laced with agitation after being pushed through countless pranks by the boys, from cobwebs being thrown into her hair, to multiple bruises staining her legs after falling over the heels of the marauders. She didn't understand why she was forced to wear the fabric at first, but it was starting to add up now.</p><p>     Hogsmeade was drenched with the blooming ochre orange, autumn leaves bundling on the floor in heaps, and the brightly shon lights that dangled from buildings and streetlights illuminating the pathway for the five. Marella hated it. She hated the happy faces of the roaming students, some on dates, some with friends.</p><p>    Their faces were engulfed with innocence, and the girl loathed it, for she was the polar opposite of them. Maybe it was just the anger speaking for her, or the jealousy pulsing through her veins at the content students, but before it could soak out of her, she found herself burying it deep within her flesh.</p><p>     "It's bittersweet isn't it?" Sirius laughed as he slowed his pace, walking alongside the girl. It seemed her act had fooled everyone but him, he'd glared right through her, eyes seeing the true emotion she'd hidden — and this rattled Marella's bones, <em>terrifying</em> her.</p><p>     "What do you mean?" she played dumb, hoping —praying— it was a slip-up. She didn't believe someone had finally been able to pick up it was an act, not after so long of wearing it with ease.</p><p>     His eyes panned down the girl, a hand reaching out and scratching the back of his head. "You know exactly what I mean Mars." the words were strong and powerful, sending a sharp blow at the girl, but his tone contradicted the statement, being presented softly.</p><p><em>     Fuck</em>. She let out a deep sigh, one which hung heavy in her chest. "It's cruel. They're so—"</p><p>     "—happy?" The girl nodded her head in response, guilt foaming within her eyes. To this Sirius hesitantly brought a hand to her shoulder, and although she flinched at the sudden contact, he still let it rest there comfortably. He'd noticed the shudder, but he didn't mention it. "You shouldn't feel bad for it, for hating them."</p><p>          "Why? They haven't done anything to me."</p><p>         "But life handed you—<em>us</em> the short stick, the shitty card, you're right, it's not their fault but neither is it ours."</p><p>    Marella wanted to crawl into a small space and rot, to let her body decay into utter nothing. Talking like this didn't come easy to her, she was okay by filling the silence with mediocre sentences, empty words which had no true meaning. But the depth of this conversation weighed her down, and she didn't want to sink. She didn't want to drown, but what she hadn't realised was that the boy before her had noticed the moment of panic, his arm draping around her shoulders — he was helping her float.</p><p>     He had done this before, but it was different this time. It was a protective gesture, one which didn't shield her from people, but from the harshness of life. And she found herself leaning against him, her body making contact with his, her warmth shielding him just as much as he was her. "You're actually not that bad when you drop the act, yknow?" Marella muttered quietly, her eyesight ahead on the three boys who walked infront—playfully shoving eachother, grins on their faces.</p><p>     "Why thankyou Ell." he smiled.</p><p>     "My names just gonna get shorter, isn't it?"</p><p>     "You're right about that E."</p><p>    "<em>E</em>?! That isn't even the first initial of my name."</p><p> </p><p>𐐪𐑂</p><p> </p><p> </p><p><b>     —THE FIVE STUDENTS HUDDLED </b>together in a small booth at the three Broomsticks, warm drinks of butterbeer in their hands grasps, and loud voices knitting over one another. Marella didn't participate in the conversation occurring, instead she watched on at them as their hands flew into the air to do gestures, their heads tilting with laughter when one of the four had said something remotely funny, the way they all spoke over one another—desperate to add to the conversation.</p><p>     Marella was in peace for the third time that day, that was until the universe sent another bomb down on her.  A firing missile that caused her to duck under the table, pressed up against the scruffy floor. "What are you doing?" James shouted as he tilted his head underneath the wooden structure, but he only received a bolt in the shin as a response — her index finger pressed up against her roughed lips, signalling for him to be quiet.</p><p>    James let out a dramatic sigh, his hand ruffling through his knotted hair before he moved his body back up into a sitting position.</p><p>    <em>Because</em> Oscar and Bridget had just walked through the doors of the pub, and although the girl hadn't done anything wrong, she knew that if they spotted her here with the marauders they would only assume she was blowing them off. Which was somewhat of the truth, even if it hadn't been intentional.</p><p>    Remus bent over after a few moments of them acting casual, sending the girl a slight wave as he handed her the butterbeer she had purchased. And with that, Marella spent her time in the three broomsticks on the floor, sipping her beverage as she listened to the conversation that occurred above her.</p><p>     The girl let out a loud grumble as she finally stood up, cracking her bones back into position as the boys watched in dismay. Her head twisted around, shooting a glance at the marauders. "What?" she said, her voice raising itself as she spoke. "I was under that table for bloody ages."</p><p>     "Yeah whatever." James uttered, "And we had to deal with you kicking our legs—"</p><p>     "She stomped on my foot!" Peter exclaimed.</p><p>     "It isn't a competition wormtail." Remus responded, his hands tucked tightly in the pockets of his jumper as he bundled himself together.</p><p>     "Well if it was-" James began, and with that the three boys let out a shared groan. "What? It's true, I wi—" the boy blinked as he spun around, "Where'd she go?"</p><p>     "Marella? She's right by my—" Sirius looked down at the empty space next to him. "Where'd she run off to?"</p><p>    Marella had dashed as soon as they started to talk about the long hour she'd spent under the table, escaping the confinement of the group and trailing off on her own. She was blank, letting the shops pass her by with no interest, she knew that she should be more excited to be there — but the initial captivation of the place had long weared off. Marella's fingers trailed against the cobbled walls, sensing every bump and imperfection the structures held as she took in the crispy air. Fresh and pure, clear to inhale.</p><p>     She wasn't thinking of anything, but nor was she paying attention to her surroundings, roaming the streets like a lost zombie. It felt good to be able to do this, to not have to constantly watch her back, to be free from the chains of her mind.</p><p>     That was until she bumped into a group of girls, she had carelessly let her eyes wander into a weary daze, and was now jolted out of it. "Shit, sorry." she muttered to the group of three, tucking the loose strands of hair behind her ears.</p><p>     "It's all good." a ginger beamed, Lily. To her right was a sandy haired girl that Marella assumed was Marlene Mckinnon and to the left of her was a round faced brunette — Mary MacDonald. Once she noticed the familiar face, Lily's smile only grew. "Oh hey Marella, you here alone?"</p><p>    The girl shrugged in response, "Something like that."</p><p>     "Well you're always welcome to hang with us." Mary said warmly, greeting the girl with a bright grin, one that she attempted to mimic in response. </p><p> </p><p>𐐪𐑂</p><p> </p><p><b>     —"I CAN TELL WHY</b> <br/>you like Lily so much." Marella said as she slumped down on the picnic bench next to James, causing the boy to recoil abruptly—" Merlin Mar! You scared the fuck out of me."</p><p>     The sun had started to set now, leaving the sky above a sandstone orange, one that begun to shoot shadows on the ground. It was getting dark, and the acrid weather was starting to creep over the five quickly.</p><p>     Marella merely smiled in response, watching as his face came to the realisation of her previous comment—"Wait? What did you say about Lily."</p><p>    Sirius pulled his head up, previously in a game of portable wizard chess with Remus. "Oh hey Marella. Glad you could finally grace us with your presence." his snickered sarcastically before receiving a stern look from Remus to focus on the game. "Alright! I'm paying attention." he muttered as he diverted his eyes back to the board.</p><p>    "Lily!" James said, his fingers snapping at the girl. "What did you say about her?"</p><p>    "I can understand why you have thing for her, she's sweet." James head bolted <br/>up—" That's my Lily pad you're talking about!" he shouted in defence, a hand tugging through his hair out of frustration.</p><p>     "Sirius, Remus, Peter, you ready to bind me up and take me back to the castle? It's getting cold and dark out here." It seemed Peter had taken the role of monitor, calling out on either of the boys if they decided to cheat—which was really just him shouting at Sirius while praising Remus. "Hello?" she sung out, and with that the boys finally nodded in response.</p><p>     "Great." she smiled before pulling herself back up off the bench, getting ready to leave. "Oh and James, she might not be your Lily for long." and with a wink she had set off in the direction they'd arrived in.</p><p>     "She wouldn't!" James said, baffled at Marella. But as he tugged at his jacket, he looked up at the boys. "Would she?"<br/>▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃<br/><br/></p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. she is hell</h2></a>
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    <em>WHY GO TO SCHOOL WHEN</em>
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    <em>YOU CAN LIGHT YOURSELF ON </em>
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    <em>FIRE AND FEEL THE SAME WAY</em>
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    <em>_______________________________________</em>
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</p><p> </p><p><b>  —MARELLA BARDOT DIDN'T CARE </b>about her grades. The construct of testing children with a few practical exams and a variety of written tests, all timed and held under strict conditions, made the girl want to hurl something at the wall. It didn't make sense, and Marella found herself questioning how it was fair on kids with disabilities, for they weren't exempt from these rules.</p><p>    It was something she had mentioned at Ilvermony, standing before her 'superiors' and using her voice to speak for the hundreds of students that couldn't. Though the concept of a witch or wizard struggling with muggle disorders made them scoff, sending the girl away before she could really share her opinion. And that was the liberal school.</p><p>     She was naturally a smart girl, destined for great things if she just tried, but that was too much. She put the minimum effort in, taking notes in class but never reading over them, listening to the teacher with half of her brain — the other side too distracted with her thoughts.</p><p>     Marella, herself, didn't feel targeted by the structure of the OWLS, she was somewhat capable of working under those conditions if she tried, but what she did feel targeted by was the words Ilvermony had used against her for having a psychological disorder <b><em>(</em></b> battling with <em>PTSD</em> from the night her manor went up in a blaze <b><em>). </em></b>So when they turned her ideas down, they sent the girl away feeling insignificant, a liability.</p><p>    But it was a feeling she had grown to know. Her face consequently turned red with suppressed rage, and the phrases which had violated her became gasoline to her anger, fuelling the girl to do something rash. That was the day she set the second floor bathrooms up in flames.</p><p>    You could say she had a <em>slight</em> issue with fire.</p><p>     "You know Ms.Bardot," professor Slughorn called out to the student before him, who had been instructed to stay back after lessons due to the ironic zero plastered across her potions test in spotty ink. "You circled all of the wrong answers."</p><p>     Marella shot the teacher a grin, her hands tucked in the pocket of her denim jacket —which she had opted for over the ridiculous cloaks the rules had stated they wear. "Guess there's no hope for me then."</p><p>    Slughorn let a lengthy sigh escape his aged mouth, taking the test in his hands. "In order to circle all of the wrong answers, you must've known the right ones."</p><p>     "Maybe im just incredibly stupid?" the girl challenged him, one of her eyebrows raising. Slughorn knew that it was a loosing hope, he'd met students like her before, and although there was potential in her, he wasn't getting payed enough to accentuate it. So at that, she was abruptly excused.</p><p>     "Do you not care that you completely failed the exam? It's going to be on your permanent record now, what if you need the information for your <em>OWLS</em>? Did you even study beforehand?" Lily trailed on, her voice displaying a tone of hurt — as if she had been the one to receive the score.</p><p>    Marella blinked at the redhead before her, she had been surprised to see Lily waiting outside the classroom for her, but now she was almost stunned for words. "....That was so irresponsible of you Mar!"</p><p>     "Goodmorning Lily, how are you?"</p><p>       "Marella—"</p><p>     "I'm fine, thankyou. What lesson have you got next?"</p><p>      "Marella B—"</p><p>       "Oh! Arithmancy, I actually have Transfiguration next."</p><p><em>    "MARELLA BARDOT</em>." Lily bellowed out, causing the girl to shut her mouth instantly. She had only ever seen her take this tone before with James and it had stunned her into silence. "Thankyou." she sighed as she lowered her voice, "You and I are studying tonight." Marella opened her lips to reject this offer, but she was met with the crumpling face of Evans-"No buts, this is happening." and with that she didn't have much choice but to agree.</p><p> </p><p>𐐪𐑂<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p><b>     —"GUESS WHO'S GOING ON</b> <br/>a date with Lily tonight?" Marella grinned as she took a seat at the Gryffindor table for lunch, snarling at the few people who dared to state otherwise. Remus had taken it upon himself to help the other three marauders study for their upcoming Charms exam, one hand holding a textbook, while the other hugged his warm cup of herbal tea.</p><p>    James' head was leant in his arms, a grunt escaping his mouth every few moments, his eyes slowly drifting in and out of consciousness — utterly bored, she speculated.</p><p>    Whereas Sirius was somewhat paying attention, for he had his book open and was taken notes, but as Marella peered closer, she realised he was only thinking of insults aimed at a Slytherin boy called Severus Snape. Peter across the table, was furiously writing everything down, his hand burning bright red from the strain it was under, but she could tell that he hadnt a clue what was going on — his face trying to make sense of what the Lupin was saying.</p><p>     There was a silence, where Remus' eyes widened with shock, Sirius let out a large grin at the girls statement, and Peter...well was still taking notes. James hadn't noticed yet, so he let out a groany <em>that's nice</em>, before he jolted into awareness, his head ripping from his arms abruptly—"<em>WHAT?!</em>" he called out, practically shaking.</p><p>     James waited for the punchline, for her to announce it was a joke, but she didn't.. "<em>LILY-FLOWER</em>!" he called out abruptly, his voice struck with betrayal.</p><p>     Lily, across the table, groan lowly before responding. "What Potter?" she all but spat, looking up from her bowl of hot soup, as her face hardened when she caught sight of the boy.</p><p><em>     "IS IT TRUE</em>-" James was interrupted by a bolt in the leg from Marella, "<em>THAT YOURE-</em>" Marella pulled Remus' book from his grasp, wacking it over the back of James' head-"I was joking, merlin. You're so dramatic." she then admitted to him as he spun around, coming to a halt from the severe impact of the charms book against his head.</p><p>     "Me?! Dramatic?" He let out a scoff before looking back up a Lily, a grin reappearing across his face as he caught sight of her, "<em>DOESN'T MATTER FLOWER....BUT CAN I SAY YOU LOOK RAVISHING TODAY!</em>"</p><p>     "Ravishing, that's a new one." Remus stated as he pulled open a small black book and noted it down, ignoring the shouting of Lily in the background — whom had just called James an <em>'arrogant toerag'</em></p><p>     "What are you doing?" Marella asked, eyeing Remus up.</p><p>     "James has used many <em>unique</em> words throughout our three years at Hogwarts, so Remus keeps track of them all and we host a <em>little </em>game at the end of the year. Whoever guesses the right number of each word he's <br/>used towards Lily wins." Sirius explained.</p><p>     "And what does the winner receive?" she then asked curiously.</p><p>     "Well its not exactly what the winner gets, but what the loser has to do."</p><p>     "And that is?" Marella raised her eyebrows, seemingly interested in their game, but she only received a brief shrug in response. "<em>Come on! Tell me." </em></p><p>     James turned towards the girls, slotting himself back into the conversation. He repeated his actions of the previous day, "If we told you that, we'd have to kill you." the boy said as he leant over, his finger moving towards her noise, yet she caught the boys index finger before it could reach her face—"I'm in." she repeated as she had the other day, then releasing his finger hesitantly.</p><p>     "We'll tell you one day." Sirius said towards the girl, "I promise." his eyes caught hers, and with that he sent her a small smile. A genuine one that Marella had never seen on his lips before.</p><p><em>     "Eugh</em>! Stop being charming." Marella said as she picked Remus' book back up, wacking him in the side with it.</p><p>    Remus face dropped as he raised his hands, "Hey! Don't take it out on the book!"</p><p>     "Moony did you hear — he was interrupted by the hardened cover hitting him once more, but that didn't stop him. "that Marella thinks i'm— <em>OW</em>!" he rubbed his arm before letting out a deep sigh —</p><p><em>   "</em><em>ThatMarellaThinksImCharming</em>." he spat out quickly, bracing himself for what he might endure at the hands of Marella next.</p><p>     Which he did rightfully so, because before he knew it, a glass of pumpkin juice had been poured over his head.</p><p> </p><p>𐐪𐑂</p><p> </p><p><b>     —IT WAS LATE WHEN </b><br/>she finally decided to meet Lily in the library, her hair hung on the left side of her shoulder in a loose braid, and her face clean from any makeup. The heinous scars that lay on her face were now noticeable, engraved in her flesh with such ferocity that other students lingering by couldn't help but stare, their eyes burning on her. Each mark carried its own story, along with its own pain and suffering, barbaric memories she longed not to remember.</p><p>    These were the permanent ones, struck on her face till the day she would decay, but they were accompanied with ephemeral ones—blotchy bruises stained purple which would burn for a few weeks before departing. She knew that she shouldn't be seen without the protective concealment of makeup, that this small act of rebellion tarnished her families name more than she could ever imagine, but then again..</p><p>...wasnt that exactly what she wanted to do?</p><p>    She wore them with unfaltering pride, her head hanging high, for they didn't affect her anymore, <em>no</em>. At first Marella hadn't noticed a group of her wounds lingering, seeming to of inhabited her skin permanently: only finding out after she had looked in her bathroom mirror when she was eight.....<em>eight</em>.</p><p>    That night she forced herself to stand there, reflection staring back at her with monotone, <em>until</em> she didn't hate them anymore. <em>Until</em> she could bare to look at them. They were memories of her family, but she refused to let them take over her face, to let the Bardot's inundate both her mind <em>and</em> her body.</p><p>    These were hers now, and nobody was taking that away from the girl. She didn't see them as ugly, she just saw them as a part of her, they were utterly <em>hers</em>. Something no-fucking-one could steal from her, because she'd already lost too much. Especially at the hands of her own lineage.</p><p>     Yet her brief walk to the library seemed to of been cut short as she felt a hand pull against her wrist, a frail grip which attempted to drag her into a secluded part of the hallway. She knew that she could easily break free, but she was more interested to see who was trying to gain her attention in such a secretive manner. Though as her eyes finally caught sight of the other, she was greeted with her sister. <em>Kaia. </em></p><p>     "What are you doing?" the eleven year old spat, her voice a little too harsh for Marella's liking as she finally let go of her sisters skin.</p><p>     "I was walking to the library?" Marella said slowly, her face crumpling out of confusement. "I'm sorry....for studying?"</p><p>     "No!" the girl bit back, her tone becoming more grim as she spoke. "Why are you displaying <em>all that?"</em></p><p>     "All that." Marella scoffed, "This is my fucking face." she then added as she stepped closer to her sister, her hand pointing up towards it. "What? You dont like it. Well dear old <em>mumzy</em> did this." she refused to mention how most of the scars had been at the defence of Kaia, when she had taken the blame for her sisters actions, repeatedly. It didn't matter, she wasn't here to guilt-trip the girl, <em>infact</em> she didn't know why she was here at all.</p><p>     Kaia's face softened, "I had no idea..I didn't realise they were-" Marella cut the girl off—"Its fine, it doesn't matter." she spoke dismissively, <em>"I'm fine." </em><b><em>( </em></b>That was the biggest lie she had ever spoken, empty words which left her mouth illicitly <b><em>)</em></b></p><p>    "Are you sure?" Kaia spoke steadily, and while Marella wasnt sure at all, she couldn't bare the thought of crumbling before a child she had grown to be a role model for. So she only nodded, a small action which seemed to answer the question for her. Atleast she didn't have to speak, because she wasn't sure what might pour out of her lips if she did, everything, <em>possibly</em>.</p><p>    One single tear cascaded down her porcelain face as she left, one salty murmur of sadness that was gone before it could truly be seen by the naked eye. Wiped away by her hand before it could fall further, scratched from history, the others ones who pleaded to follow after being locked tightly in place. She didn't bury her feelings, she didn't force herself not to cry, she wasnt afraid to show her emotions<em>, she wasn't broken. </em></p><p>Truthfully Marella couldn't count how many times she had sobbed into her pillow, leaving the satin case wet with black, podgy mascara. She just didn't want everyone else to see her sad, because she craved to be viewed as higher than them, a walking mystery that they could never solve, a blazing enigma. It was the last thing she had. So she held back the storm, knowing that it would come firing out later when she was in the comfort of her own dorm, <em>shielded</em>.</p><p>    But what she didn't know was the sadness now travelling through each of her cells was only going to turn to acid, acting as pungent fuel — the anger already beginning to bubble and brew.</p><p>     When the girl had gotten to the library, it was dark outside, the crescent moon burning through the oval windows of the room, casting beams of light across the space, rays of golden hue. Rain fell from the ashy clouds above, washing down onto the earths floor, as if it were clearing away all forms of destruction which had stained Hogwarts.</p><p>   It refused to leave, to depart, clinging on the glossed windows — which then caused clear droplets to linger on the glass panes, a souvenir of the inclement weather.</p><p>     Potions tutoring hadn't been bad, turns out when you're actually skilled on the subject, time appears to fly by with ease. However, Lily was a smart girl, piecing together the truth early on in their session — Marella Bardot deemed to be purposely failing herself.</p><p>     It was at the end of the hour lesson when she finally mentioned it, her eyes staying directly on Marella as she closed the potions book—"Why are you letting yourself get bad grades in potions?" she asked hesitantly, confusment showing itself through the cracks of her face.</p><p>         <em>"I'm not</em>—"</p><p>     "Save it Mars, I know you're capable of actually doing the work. To a bloody good standard may I add." she said as she pulled herself up, putting the textbooks back into her fabric bag. "So why...<em>why</em> are you doing this?"</p><p>     Marella shrugged in response, finally giving Lily an answer. "To piss off my parents."</p><p>     Lily looked back at her in shock, as if that was the most idiotic reason, but then again..it sorta was. "But you're ruining your future? It's only going to end up screwing you over, <em>not them.</em>" she challenged the girl, as if this was a decision Marella had made, something she could just backtrack on whenever she felt like it.</p><p>     The thing with Marella was that she had never thought about her future. The girl presumed she would be dead before she could make it out of school, buried in the ground with not a mourner in sight. <em>Maybe</em> it would be at the abusive hands of her parents, who finally pushed their spells too far, their anger intensifying past the limits of return, succumbing to murder. Or <em>maybe, </em>it would be at her <em>own</em> hands, when she finally couldn't take the pain anymore, the constant, diabolical agony — consequently ending it.</p><p>     "I dont care about my future." Marella spoke through the thickening tension, she <em>did</em> care about it, <em>however</em>, she just didn't think it would be hers to hold.</p><p>     Lily snapped. "That's lies! You know Marella, you should drop this tough-kid act, maybe then you'd notice your potential." the girl raised her voice, though her tone stayed somewhat respectful, as if she didn't mean her words, yet it didn't seem to matter, they still gouged Marella with revolting force. Once she was done, said everything she wished to, she turned on her heels and stormed out of the library. Leaving Marella alone. Once more.</p><p>     The girl couldn't understand why Lily Evans cared so much, they were hardly friends. She wasn't used to people being nice to her purely for the sake of it, to Marella it was strange.</p><p>     Marella felt anger pulse through her limbs, not at the redhead, but at herself. For being <em>so</em> destructive, for being <em>so</em> stubborn, but <em>mostly</em> for not caring as much as she should. It was in the form of a fourth year Slytherin that finally set the fire inside her alight, like a flame meeting its match. His face displayed nothing but disgust as his eyes locked on Marella from across the hallway. His hair was scraggy with curls, tossed to one side of his head with grease, and his eyes were shadowed — drained from every spot of colour.</p><p>    The shirt he wore was untucked, slightly unbuttoned from the top as his green tie hung loosely around it. Severus Snape. Once the girl caught sight of him, she turned her eyes back to the path ahead of her, they were acquaintances. That was it. She didn't bother him, he didn't bother her. Though it seemed that the unspoken agreement had been broken by the appearance of her in England, it'd been three years since he had stayed with the Bardots in America, and it appeared that he was no longer content with her.</p><p>     She didn't understand this however, he was the <em>only</em> half-blooded wizard her family had ever accepted, and although their hands were tainted red from the trauma they had inflicted on their own children, Arroyo and Cascade had <em>always</em> treated Snape well. From buying him new clothes when his neglectful parents had forgotten, to feeding him when he was left starving.</p><p>    He'd been travelling to America with his mother for an annual Bardot Christmas party, a generational one that descended back to the roots of their lineage. It was then when he stayed with the family for a few short months before being hauled back to England in order to start Hogwarts. </p><p>     It happened in the form of one comment, which then ricocheted against her minds walls once it had been spoken aloud.<em> Blood traitor</em>. Of course it couldn't live up to the dreaded <b>m</b> word, and she would never compare the two, but still — it stung her more than she would've liked, poison to her throat. It wasnt for the meaning behind it, in fact she quite liked the definition it held, but the way it had been previously used to hurt her.</p><p>    Whether it was being repeated to her face as she was brutally tortured by her family. Or being carved into her skin with a crisp blade as a punishment <b><em>( </em></b>the words still remaining to that day, burning vividly on her waist <b><em>). </em></b>But she wasnt about to crumble before the mess of a boy who struggled to wash his hair, so she smiled. A smile that could make the devil recoil in hot, spicy <em>fear</em>. <em>One</em> which held such power that Severus' face began to drop from the smug expression it once held. <em>One</em> which scared him. <em>No</em>, <em>terrified</em> the boy.</p><p>     "You're right, that's exactly what I am." she stepped closer, the words pouring from her mouth effortlessly. On the inside she was crumbling, ready to collapse into a pile of timidity, but on the outside, she stood firm and emotionless — infact if he'd been forced to pick an emotion that described her in that moment, it would be <em>happy</em>. "But what are you? A halfbreeded Slytherin who thinks that following along with the crowd will make you wanted." she didn't push any further, though she knew that if she wished, she could dig deep into his soul and crush him. Rip the boy into little shreds of nothing — <em>to put it lightly. </em></p><p>     But he didn't back down; <em>wrong choice.</em></p><p>     "Maybe," he tried to mimic the girls tone, though she could sense the wobbliness of his voice. He had been affected by her previous comments, he couldn't hide it like she could. "But you'll never be wanted, not by your family at least. You'll always be the disappointment in the Bardot household, im surprised they haven't burnt your name off the wall yet, sent you packing into the streets like the homeless disappointment you are." he then snarled.</p><p>     Marella raised her eyebrows, the words he had spoken merely hitting off her body, reflected back at him like a boomerang. "Its ironic that we're talking about families, dont you think <em>Snapey</em>?" she said venomously, "I might never be wanted in my household, but lets face the facts, I dont care. You on the other hand, you could be the brightest wizard here, and yet your father would still hate you. And though my family might loathe me just as much as yours does you, there's a strong difference between us, Severus Snape, because those words hurt you. Your fathers hand making contact with your skin hurts you. His—" she was interrupted by the blow of a spell, hitting her in the face with a ravenous burn.</p><p>     "You feel that," he snickered. "This is what deserved to happen to you the day you set your house on fire. You deserved to burn like the filthy traitor you are."</p><p>     Marella stumbled back in shock, rear hitting against a wall in disquieted panic. Her flesh had began to blaze with an insufferable heat, rising through her veins like a plaguing disease would it's victim, tainting her with severe agitation. It was utterly jarring, a barbed pain which caused the girls skin to distend into something unrecognisable.</p><p>    It didn't matter how much cool water she splashed on herself as she finally found the energy to rush into the girls bathrooms, the scalding didn't seem to dimmer. But worst of all, it sent her back to <em>that</em> night: she could <em>feel</em> the flames wrapping around her in a form of suffocation, she could <em>smell</em> the scent of brittle burning, she could <em>see</em> the tangy orange flames which spun around the dinner table in a deranged frenzy.</p><p>     Marella Bardot had been cursed with reliving the night she set her house on fire as she furiously continued to wet her face, breath hitching in the back of her throat. She didn't want to go back, but she had no choice.</p><p>     It took two hours to wear off, one hundred and twenty minutes of her worst nightmare, and as she sat on the cool tiled floor, her face dripping with sweat and tap water — her mind boiled over, as if it were re-enacting the scene from earlier.</p><p>     The sadness she had endured throughout the day gradually mixed itself with the resentment she felt for the Slytherin, and created a vile of pure fury. Marella Bardot was running on anger now, slipping from saneness as the minutes ticked by.</p><p>     Her stomach tightened into a firm knot, rage hissing through her like bitter poison, begging—demanding— sweet release. Marellas body twitched again and again, as her knuckles dug into eachother, turning pale white.</p><p>    Then it happened, the volcanic eruption set off, burning words beginning to spit out of her like lava. She mentally snapped.</p><p>     And soon, she found the urge to seek vengeance, knowing just who to help her follow through with it.<br/>▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. disintegrated promises</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>
    <em>THE GENTLE ART OF MAKING ENEMIES</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>________________________________</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>—<b>IT WAS A PLACID NIGHT</b>, <br/>the winds hostile blows hitting against the building outside, unable to reach the students through the walls. There was a certain frostiness in the Hogwarts air, but it was nothing that couldn't be concealed by the warmth of loose jackets and soft socks. Yet the stillness around Marella conflicted with her own emotions. She was the darkness within the light, the blood among the pale sheets. Her mind was unsettled, restless.</p><p>     The girls feet crushed against the floor, black converse trainers carrying her towards the Gryffindor common room quickly. Every part of her body pounded with uncontrollable rage, her hands now shivering as she finally met her first destination of the night: the Gryffindor common room. She looked on at the portrait, who merely stared back at her silently. "I dont have the password." she said bluntly, hoping that would gain her access.</p><p>     It did not.</p><p>     "Why even bother if you dont have it?" The woman in the picture huffed, "And I thought Ravenclaws were smart." she added, her tone strikingly harsh.</p><p>     Any other day Marella would've snickered at this comment, maybe even agreed with the portrait, but the anger inside her seemed to fizzle out any sort of humour she had. "Now listen up fat lady, you're going to let me into that common room or im going to bring my fist right through your portrait." Marella hollered, her eyes squinting at the woman before her. From her scratched face, to the fury that dropped from her lips, the fat lady really had no choice.</p><p>     Some may say it was impossible to get into another houses common room, but Marella would say fuck that. All it took was a threatening look, paired with some nasty cuts. She'd found picking cheap locks harder.<br/><br/><br/></p><p>𐐪𐑂<br/><br/><br/></p><p>—<b>MARELLA CLATTERED INTO THE </b>red and gold common room, to which she was greeted with the four marauders now stretched out across the leather sofa, barely awake. They too were a part of the slumbering population in the school, yet their restful state was about to be splintered by a certain Ravenclaw. "Good, you're down here. I was hoping that I wouldn't have to barge into every dorm until I found yours." she said as she stood before the roaring fire, the statement she made was the truth.</p><p>    She didn't mind disturbing a couple dozen Gryffindors, infact it sounded quite enjoyable but she had places to be, and things to do.</p><p>"God, is that you?" Peter looked up, his eyes slanting as he began to reach a hand out. Sirius rolled his eyes, pulling the boys arm down as he then muttered-"More like the devil mate." under his breath, causing Peter to let out a snicker discreetly.</p><p>"Marella what are you doing here?" Remus groaned as he rubbed his dreary eyes, pulling himself into a sitting position on the sofa, his shirt now painted with creases. "How did you even get in here? You dont know the password."</p><p>The boys looked up curiously, to which Marella shrugged, "I threatened the fat lady." she responded bluntly.</p><p>Sirius muttered something inaudible to James as he too pulled himself up, "And tell me love, how did you do that?" he asked louder this time, now fairly interested in what she had to say.</p><p>"I said I woul—" Marella stopped herself, realising that the conversation had already began to trail in a new direction. "doesn't matter, I was wondering if you wanted to accompany me on uh—a..." she didn't really have an idea on what to call it, so she just went with a dilute answer. "A prank."</p><p>"Yes—" James began to say before his eyes shot up, curiosity foaming in them as he brung his hand through his messy hair. "What exactly are we doing?" James asked, then letting out a small groan as his fingers got caught in his curly locks.</p><p><em>"We're</em> going to set Severus Snape's hair on fire."</p><p>The boys were <b><em>( </em></b>once again <b><em>) </em></b>took back by the girls blunt answer. "Why do you need us for that?" James challenged her, though he was already eager to accept. "You were fairly capable of setting a whole house on fire by yourse—" he was abruptly stopped by Remus, who'd brought a hand to the boys lips—"Yes, why exactly do you need us?" Remus then asked politely, a subtle glare being sent in the Potters direction.</p><p>It was a genius plan she'd conceived while on route towards Gryffindor: Severus loathed the marauders with a <em>burning</em> passion, a hatred that was commonly known amongst the school from the ruthless pranks he'd endured at their hands.</p><p>    Marella knew she could spit many explicit words towards him, even set him ablaze, but the one thing that would finally push him over the edge was the four delinquent boys he so despised holding him back while she shot at him. It was evil, and that's why it worked so well.</p><p>You could say Marella's slytherin side was showing more than ever now, and she couldn't disagree with you. Her cunningness was piercing in that moment, and she seemed to be blind sighted from the guilt that would later gather in her stomach.</p><p>It didn't take long for James to agree, in fact he hadn't really been paying attention, just hearing the words <em>pranking </em>and <em>snape</em> was enough to draw him in. Peter appeared to oblige after this, using the lousy excuse that he was bored. Sirius let out a smirk — she didn't need to hear his response to know he was in, if there was a prank occurring, he was involved.</p><p>    Remus seemed to only agree <b><em>(</em></b> hesitantly <b><em>)</em></b> once all of his friends had, you could narrow it down to peer pressure maybe, because he was now dripping with uncertainty. But he was reassured when Marella put out the fire in her eyes and turned towards him—"You can be lookout, okay? Im not going to make you do anything you dont want to do." the boy nodded in response, his mood lightening when he saw the softness amongst the fiery girl.</p><p>She really was a walking mystery, one that he <b><em>(</em></b> alongside the other marauders <b><em>)</em></b> were longing to solve, just as she was them. A game of cat and mouse that would be left unsolved for many years to come.</p><p>Maybe if Snape hadn't been roaming the dungeon halls that night everything may not have went down as it did, but those were empty words. Everything that'd happened did, and Marella reminded herself once more to not hang onto the past. But in this case it was engraved into her mind deeply. <br/><br/><br/></p><p>𐐪𐑂<br/><br/><br/></p><p><b>—THAT NIGHT WAS A </b><br/>blur for Marella, another memory that she wished to discard in the shadowed bank of her brain. Locking it away so it couldn't bite at her, slowly rubbing at her like a saw on wood. She couldnt erase it, for it was still so vivid in her mind, from the flash of amber clashing against crimson infront of her teary pupils, to  the piercing noise of Snape screaming, all while the three marauders held him within their clutch.</p><p>       She watched as his hair —that'd been slowly growing down his neck— was burnt to pure crisp, sizzling onto the floor before them. She didn't harm him, she would never stoop that low, <em>she wouldn't let herself . </em>Though the snarling threats, knitted with hatred and aggression, that were spat made her feel the strong impulsive need to crash her fists into his face. But she didn't, she was in control of her anger. That was for a short while atleast.</p><p>From that day forward she was labelled <em>Flamer</em>. Apparently news travelled fast at Hogwarts, and by the next evening, her prank had spread from student to student, leaving her marked with an insulting nickname. Now everyone associated her with the actions of her past, as if they defined her as a person. She found herself struggling to talk amongst others, most steering away from her at sight. If it wasnt for Oscar and Bridget and the marauders, it would've been like she was back at Ilvermorny. Soon she found herself valuing both of the separate friendships greatly, clinging onto them with a tight grasp.</p><p>But then the guilt sunk in, the raw, pure regret of her actions towards Snape. Maybe it was because he was a child, or maybe it was the screams he'd emitted, ones that sounded identical to her sisters. And it scared Marella, terrified her infact, because in that moment, she felt like her parents. That she was slowly transforming into a newer version of them, and maybe that was what she really feared the most.</p><p>It was plausible, she wasn't a little girl anymore, the fear of pain didn't scare her anymore, being the one initiating it did.</p><p>"What's up <em>flamer</em>?" James grinned as she sat down at the Gryffindor table, a place she was starting to find herself commonly at. From his words, Marella froze, half straddling the seat—"What the fuck did you just call me?" she bit back in response, stunned from her friends words.</p><p>It was a piercing stab in her gut, one that she masked over a containable glare, but even she knew that she couldn't disguise it forever. Marella didn't want to be associated with that name, not by her own friends, not when she had told them countless times how much it affected her.</p><p>"Chill out." Sirius responded for the boy, poking a piece of pasta with his fork, "It's just a name."</p><p>"Don't call me it." the girl repeated herself sternly. Adamant on what she found slipping from her mouth.</p><p>"Sure, whatever." he shrugged carelessly, her words merely affecting him. <em>If only he knew how much it affected her. </em></p><p>"You promise?" Marella panned her wide eyes between the two boys. To which they shifted their glances to each other before shrugging-"Yeah." they chorused together. <br/>— a lie that would come to haunt all three of them soon.</p><p>The next month seemed to go slow, each day becoming colder as the inevitable winter crept over the five kids. It was a time in which Marella would make a routine that held nostalgia for years to come — she'd slip a knitted jumper over her bones in replacement for her cloak, hair casted in a messy side braid as she gripped tightly onto a book.</p><p>    Then shuffling her feet towards the Gryffindor common room during the early morning sun, something she did would do everyday at the same time. She'd wait outside for a few brief minutes, preferably talking away to the fat lady —who she was determined to find out the real name of— before being joined by the infamous marauders. The sun was only starting to rise outside when they were reunited with eachother, its orange and pink hues shooting down rays of light as they found themselves running towards the kitchens in balls of quiet laughter.</p><p>They'd sit amongst a long wooden table, house elves in the background busy fumbling over breakfast, while they all cupped hot glasses of coffee and tea. James and Sirius sat opposite each other, their quills scraping against loose pieces of parchment as they made use of their free time by planning out their future pranks <b><em>(</em></b> and occasionally copying up the homework after a stern warning from Remus <b><em>)</em></b>.</p><p>    Peter would happily snack on his first portion of pancakes for the morning, drenched in hazel syrup, as he kept himself busy with a painting he'd been working on. Remus would read alongside Marella, the two of them racing to finish a chapter before the other.</p><p>Everything was winsome, and Marella found herself free from the chains that held her back tightly — she was away from her home, she was among others that she was slowly beginning to love, and she hadn't been hit by anyone in over a month.</p><p>But its funny how fate works, because she hadn't found her happiness yet, not permanently at least. So while she sat among her friends, the universe plotted and planned, spinning its cruel rays of fate down onto the girl. Some would say it was unfair that she'd been forced to hit rock bottom before she even saw a crack of happiness, but then again some would just as easily argue against this— <em>Happiness has consequences, and with the good you have to take the bad. </em><br/><br/><br/></p><p>𐐪𐑂<br/><br/><br/></p><p>—<b>ATLAST SHE WAS STRUCK</b><br/>during the breaking hours of a December morning, when she had awoken to pure stillness. Her eyes were dreary with fatigue and sleep after devoting the previous day to studying with Oscar. She just wanted to get up, have her few moments of peace and then get through the day. But that wasn't what was in store for her, and what her eyes were about to witness would leave her unhinged for months to come. It wasn't the action itself, but the consequences that followed after it.</p><p>The girls hands traveled for her uniform, to which she found in the place she had left priorly, yet now it was burnt to a crisp. Holes in the shirt were tarnished ashy yellow, crumpled with countless creases. As if it had been struck with lighting, or been succumb to the same death as all of her clothes had been at the manour. Marella dropped it to the floor quickly, scampering over towards her trunk to only find the rest of her clothes had suffered the same fate.</p><p>"Whats going on?" Bridget grumbled as she rose from her bed, slipping on a loose cardigan as she trudged over to her friend — now on the floor in a panic. Marella's eyes were soaked with fresh tears, slowly dropping down her skin, <em>she was crying</em>.</p><p>Some could call it controversial that she hated what she saw before her, because the burns engraved in the shirt reminded her of the past, and she didn't want to be held accountable for those actions now — yet she had just sizzled a boys hair to crisp. Maybe this was just a cruel punishment that'd clawed onto her because of what she did, but he deserved it. He started it.</p><p>But that's how the story always goes: he says, she says. Everything is a game, and life had just handed her the red card.</p><p>"Marella." Bridget said softly before pulling herself onto the ground next to Marella. She brought her soft hands towards the girls red face, turning it towards her own. A sudden expression took over her face as she tugged at Marellas hair, <em>shock</em>. "What the fuck happened to your hai—who did this?" her voice was stern, knitted with anger.</p><p>"My hair?!" Marella said as she jolted herself up, hurrying over to the mirror that lay on the back wall of the dorm. Her locks of hair were now deep red, void of the brown she had once wore. "Wh-" her voice was shaky, as she turned back round to Bridget. "Give me that shirt." she ordered, her friend obligating quickly as she threw over one of the tarnished tops.</p><p>    The girl turned it inside out, scavenging for any signs of accountability, hoping — praying — that it was anyone but her four boys. Her boys who had a certain desire for this kind of prank. <em>It can't be them, she thought, it can't. </em>Yet she was slammed in the face with the hard truth, one she'd knew deep down, but nevertheless one that stung her flesh vigorously.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Happy birthday </em>
  <b>
    <em>Flamer. </em>
  </b>
  <br/>
  <em>—marauders.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Marella blinked, then again, she was convinced that this was all some bad dream, that she would awake soon and everything would be okay. But it didn't, because this was real. And to make matters worse, it wasn't even her fucking birthday — they could've atleast gotten that right!</p><p>The red from her hair didn't wash out, not when she dunked her head under the steamy water, not when she scrubbed her fingers deep within her roots. Not even a spell washed this out. And when she entered the main hall for the first time, everyone knew. Everyone.</p><p>
  <em>Flamer. Flamer. Flamer.</em>
</p><p>Marella's name was tarnished forever, and for the first few weeks after, she found herself rotting in the safety of her dorm room. But then she hardened, shoved on a face of concealment, and played the act of a ruthless bitch that people had made her out to be.</p><p>If the fire was all she was going to be known for, then she was going to embrace it fully.</p><p>    Here's the thing, if you paint someone as the monster time and time again, soon they will become it. Marella wasn't exempt from this, she had suffered far too long, and far too harshly to allow a band of boys into weaselling their way under her thick layers of skin. She was a Bardot, and while she detested her surname for all it stood for, the girl wasn't going to appear vulnerable, <em>never</em>.</p><p>    PTSD, whilst everything about Marella appeared to be perfect, as if she were handcrafted from the gods themselves, moulded into the perfect human, that was merely the surface level — what she wanted you to see. Underneath her layers of falsity was a scared girl being tormented with the night her house blew up in flames, memories vivid in her head, able to transport her back to the night with merely one trigger.</p><p>    It was shocking how people could turn so quickly, their opinions polluted and their heads set on the idea they'd messily created of the other. Humans could be hateful, and their close-minded brains jumped from conclusion to conclusion, leading to wars and violence. Whether it be a mediocre school feud or a massive, darkening war, it all birthed from humans. They were the root of all destruction, there was no denying it.</p><p>    Therefore, humans fucking sucked, and in Marella's opinion, the marauders were the worst of the bunch. This was set on stone from that day forward, yet if she could see what life had planned for her, the rest of her fourth-year then forward could only be perceived as a joke. Albeit, fates strange like that, and so she turned to resentment, just as the four boys had to her. A battle on who would crack first, though they never thought a bite mark would eventually bring them together.</p><p>    But all in good time, the story of Marella Bardot was just beginning to truly shape, and the ending appeared to be unknown to both she and the universe —</p><p>Fate was infact playing a game of roulette. <br/>▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. alteration of time itself</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
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  <strong> <em>VENGEANCE IS MINE</em> </strong>
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  <strong> <em>I WILL REPAY</em> </strong>
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  <b> <em>_________________</em> </b>
</p><p><b>    —JAMES POTTER </b>was a spark of intensity, full of stupid ideas and impulsive decisions. He found himself drawn to long conversations that held until the early hours of the morning, and seemed to always have an endless stack of questions he longed to find the answer to. The boy had messy hair he nervously fumbled over, and eyes that dilated when he caught sight of a certain red-head. He was undoubtedly wrong in most scenarios, and never knew when to apologise, yet he loved like no other. He was blessed with a radiating warm-heart, but held back by the chains of his stubbornness.</p><p><b>    REMUS LUPIN </b>was full of candid smiles and inviting hugs. He was the friend that studied hard, while being the<br/>middle-grounded balance of the marauders. The boy stumbled over sentences as he spoke, and wrote so illegibly that even he couldn't read his notes. Yet his perspective of himself was so tainted that he looked in the mirror and only saw a monster. The scratches dinted his face never healed, new ones appearing before the others could vanish. He leant on his friends, and believed their words too quickly. He was shy and reserved, and really didn't know when to open his mouth.</p><p><b>    PETER PETTIGREW </b>was the boy who always had hefty bags of tiredness underneath his eyes, from countless nights of late night insomnia. He preferred the world inside novels than he did the one he was currently in, usually absorbed within a fantasy universe. With paintings dashed against his side of the dorms wall, and the brushes scattered across his bedside table, it was easy to assume he'd began to delve into art. Conflict never had been his strong suit, and he appeared to go with the easiest option when it occurred.</p><p><b>    SIRIUS BLACK </b>resembleda storm which was wild with uncontrollability, lashing out with cold rain that seeped onto the people around him. He was greyed with the scars of his past, and seemed to be fairly unpredictable. He was the boy who tattooed his wrist because he felt like it, and kept a long book of things he wished he'd said. He found himself unable to view things from others perspective, always assuming the worst and going with it.<br/><br/><br/><br/></p><p>𐐪𐑂<br/><br/><br/><br/></p><p><b>    —THREE HUNDRED &amp; SIXTY-FIVE DAYS. </b>A lengthy year seemed to of gone by since Marella took her first steps upon the Hogwarts Express. Time changes people, just as it changes feelings. And the girl found herself amongst blue rather than red, the seat she'd claimed as hers at the Gryffindor table was gone, as if it had never even been there. But that wasn't the only thing which seemed forgotten — so was the friendship she'd held with the marauders.</p><p>    November. The month of pause, too late for the thrills of halloween, but too early for the break of christmas. The autumn leaves that'd slowly decayed on the ground at the start of the term were now replaced by the whiteness of cold frost. It found itself between the cracks in the pavement below, even beginning to lace itself amongst the grass.</p><p>    The days were getting shorter, and Marella's eyes were starting to grow tired with late-night fatigue. Because while she was starting to do better, she never shook off the insomnia.</p><p>    Looking back at her and the marauders friendship now, Marella could feel a sting of resentment waver over her chest, autumn had been somewhat blissful, and now she was jolting towards an icy winter. Not only did the season change, but she did too. The four marauders previously plastered to her side throughout a short duration of her fourth year were distant, practically gone.</p><p>      Their glares were colder than the frosty wind outside, shooting down on her with disgust, <em>repulse</em>. And with that, a cruel lump began to swell in the back of her throat. After grovelling for a few days <b><em>( </em></b>if that <b><em>) </em></b>they finally gave up on the girls forgiveness, shutting her out.</p><p>She didn't understand it, they'd wronged her, and yet she was the one who suffered loss. She was now on the other end of their deathly stares, and although they hurt, she reciprocated them back harshly. They only seemed to come from two of the boys though, Remus being the most reasonable one in the pack and blankly ignoring her — respecting her wishes for some space.</p><p>    Peter at the start, had felt down because of her disappearance, for she was something new amongst the boys he'd grown to see every day. But as time moved on, he lost hope the friendship would be mended and soon tried to erase her for the better.</p><p>To Marella, she reciprocated what Peter and Remus had done to her, they were no longer there in her eyes. Though she couldn't say the same for James and Sirius. The frowns their face displayed as she walked by had been the first flame, and from there it only seemed to grow —just as the thick snow on the ground did.</p><p>    <em>And</em> it only took a snarky comment under the breath of ones mouth to set their feud alight. And soon Marella found herself loathing Sirius Black just as much as her family had, now left with one thought — maybe it was meant to be this way, a Black and a Bardot could never work.</p><p>She was terrified to go back home for christmas, the half-term slowly emerging in the distance, because she would have to face the wrath of her parents once more. Although she had hung her head high with confidence, she was scared. Marella Bardot couldn't imagine a day where she wouldn't be.</p><p>    Thats the dream, <em>isn't it?</em> To wake up and not have to check the bruises that lace your arms, to not have to spend hours concealing them with makeup and spells. To let your mouth utter out whatever it wanted, carefree with lack of worry for the consequences of your words — something she had been able to do while in the company of the marauders. But now that had been taken away from her.</p><p>    Marella appeared to be the headstrong female with a tint of rebellion in her blood <b><em>( </em></b>and towards her blood <b><em>) </em></b>but she was still only a girl. One that had been raised with a set of ideals that had been drilled inside her head from the moment she was born, so once she found out they were tainted; she had no idea what to do — or what to think. She was alone, even with people all around her. They couldn't understand it, they never would.</p><p>Over the previous year, Marella had grown quite the attachment towards Oscar and Bridget. They weren't like the boisterous boys she had previously encountered, who had a lack of agency, free to do whatever they wished. But nevertheless, Marella enjoyed the pairs company, and soon she found herself loving them as one would family. Infact they <em>were</em> her family.<br/><br/><br/></p><p>𐐪𐑂<br/><br/><br/><br/><br/></p><p>        —"<b>MOOORNING!" OSCAR GROANED AS </b>he joined Marella and Bridget for breakfast, slumping down onto the chair slowly. He'd just trudged through the hallway with his body hanging lowly, and due to this, the girls had assumed he'd collapse before he could reach the table. Both of them had agreed on which role they would take for scooping him back up — Marella getting his head, Bridget getting his legs.</p><p>    His skin was now whiter than the thick snow outside, and his eyes were beginning to drain from their natural blue colour, presented with red stripes underneath.</p><p>"Fucking hell," was all Bridget could mutter before receiving a sharp nudge from Marella, who was trying to be sympathetic to the boy before her, though she too was astounded for words. He looked like an unlucky victim of the plague, in fact she was ready to shove on her hazmat suit when she saw him droop his head—"Are you oka—" before Marella could even finish her sentence, he seemed to collapse into his arms, letting out a louder groan. The two girls shot each other a worried glance before wordlessly conversing on what to do.</p><p>"m'fine." he groggily spoke into his hands though he was soon halted out of his seat by both of his friends, who now found themselves on either side of him, dragging him supportingly towards the infirmary. "Guys! Im fine." he shot back at them, intending on his voice to have force, though it came out as a breathless whimper. "Oh merlin..im dying." he finally admitted once he realised the bad state he was in, to which the girls reluctantly nodded.</p><p>Marella twisted her head towards the boy, gripping onto his back tighter as she whispered into his ear—"If you're dying, I better be getting everything in your will." this comment had been a joke, though her tone seemed somewhat serious.</p><p>"You—" Bridget opened her mouth, shooting a snarly look in the direction of Marella. "You sneaky little bitch.." she then finished, turning to Oscar, "Don't listen to her, I've been your friend longer!"</p><p>"Yeah but who helps him with history?"</p><p>"I-" Bridget let out a frustrated moan, "If im not in your will, I'll kill you."</p><p>"We can split it." Marella offered, her eyebrows raising.</p><p>"Deal."</p><p>From there the pair dragged him towards the hospital wing, their worried glances only growing  as they watched their friend slip in and out of consciousness, his face now pasty with death. He was looking worse as the minutes slipped on, and by the time they'd reached their destination, they were filled with distress for their friend.</p><p>"Poppy cmon, you can tell us." Marella said with a slight bounce in her voice before flashing a toothy grin at the woman, Bridget could be found peeled to her friends side now — whose face replicated the actions of Marella comically. After Oscar had been whisked away to be treated, the nurse had abruptly closed the curtains on the two girls — leaving them to wait obliviously for a hefty amount of time.</p><p>"Girls, I am trying to work." Madame Pomfrey sighed as she looked upon the Ravenclaws, a vile of the Pepperup potion in her grasp <b><em>( </em></b>its contents being a nasty orange liquid that seemed to clunk together in the glass bottle <b><em>)</em></b>. "Your friend is fine."</p><p>"But what's wrong with him?" Bridget groaned, to which Marella chimed in— "Poppy, dear just tell us. After all we are your favourite students." she slyly spoke, knowing that she and her friends were infact close with Pomfrey.</p><p>    Due to Bridget's aspiring need to be a healer in the near future, they found themselves volunteering in the hospital whenever they could. It was mostly just sorting potions out in the back, or cleaning the sheets, but it passed the time and it was frankly quite fun.</p><p>Pomfrey looked between the two smiling girls, letting out a puff of air. "Fine!" she hissed as she guided them to the other side of the clinical sheet, where Oscar laid on a bed asleep. "He's got a nasty case of the flu, that's it. A good night sleep and a few drops of this will make him better than new." she explained to Marella and Bridget as she slid the glassed potion onto the bedside table. "Now shoo, both of you!"</p><p>"Not a chance." Bridget said as she took a seat next to the boy, her arms crossed adamantly. "He stayed by my side for a whole week when I got hit by that bludger."</p><p>"That was a bloody nuisance." Poppy muttered under her breath before shifting her eyes to Marella, "Dont tell me youre staying too! The boy needs sleep, not distractions like you two."</p><p>Marella pressed her hand up against her chest, "You hurt me Pops, you hurt me." but as the nurses brows furrowed, awaiting a proper answer she finally gave in, plopping herself down onto the seat next to her friend. "Where she goes, I go."</p><p>"Ridiculous!" Poppy huffed as she turned around on her heels, moving away from the trio once she had made it clear that it was only for the night. Though the two girls only let out a shared laugh in response, knowing that the woman secretly loved them — after all, they'd been the only ones allowed to stay in the infirmary overnight. For whatever ludicrous reason, Pomfrey trusted them.</p><p>"Well there goes our Sunday." Bridget murmured as she pulled herself back up, draping her jacket over the seat she was previously sitting in. "I'm going back up to the dorm, get a few magazines for entertainment, maybe some sweets?"</p><p>"Oooh! Get my Tarot Deck." Marella eagerly said in response, watching as her friends face dropped. "What? For all we know our dear best friend might be on his deathbed." she reasoned, though both of the girls knew that wasn't what she planned to use them for.</p><p>"Yeah right, I know exactly what you're gonna do with them cards."</p><p>"And what is that Bridge?"</p><p>"You're going to ask the universe or the higher beings<em>, or whatever</em> on more ways to torment the marauders."</p><p>"Fetch me my cards!" Marella declared as she ignored the previous statement that slipped from her friends lips, shaking her head slightly.</p><p>"You're not denying it!" the girl yelled as her feet carried her out of the room. Marella made herself occupied with a loose thread in her jumper as she awaited for her friend to return with some better entertainment, cursing Oscar quietly for getting ill on their only spare day.</p><p>Scatters of trashy magazines laced the hospital floor — Bridget now stretched out across them and the hardened ground as she painted her nails a dark purple.</p><p>   The girl flicked her <em>bare</em> fingers through the pages of <em>wizards weekly, </em>eyes scanning the page as she only picked up a scarce amount of information. Marella was resting on the bed next to Oscar, tarot cards bundled up in a small stack near the edge as her quill grazed the parchment of a notebook. Between the two they were sharing a peaceful moment, absorbed with only themselves as they took in the serene quietness of a late night.</p><p>Bridget seemed to pass out on the two chairs a few hours later, both her hands and toes now displaying a purple colour, yet Marella sat awake and alert. The girl didn't attempt to shut her eyes, transfixed on the calmness of the desolated room. It was only the three of them in the wing, and there was a strange happiness being the wanderer amongst dreamers.<br/><br/><br/></p><p>𐐪𐑂<br/><br/><br/><br/></p><p>      —<b>ON THE LEDGE OF </b>a window in the hospital, Marella sat with a knitted blanket draped over her limbs. It must've been late for the jetted darkness that surrounded the sky was clear to see. Warped shapes of stars dinted the curtain of blackness, they were merely speckles in a messy assemblage of yellow.</p><p>    The mother of the sky roamed above them, looking down on the inhabitants of earth as she graced them with a blooming circle of light. Marella sat there purely wondering, her subconscious talking to itself loudly, while the drafty air around her only picked up muteness. It was a blessing to be able to talk with only yourself, and the girl trailed her minds voice on for hours.</p><p>    It was just her now, and that's the way it stayed until the early hours of the morning.</p><p>Her eyes were slipping in and out of sleep, skin peeled to the structure below her as the moon began to hide away, making room for the tangy suns appearance. Beams of golden came as nature's easel within time, giving colour to what had been hidden under the passing starlit night.</p><p>    And that light seemed to shine down on a specific group of four children, who had just spent the night out amongst nature, yet they hadn't been boys during dusk but animals.</p><p>    Their tired bodies carried them towards the same wing as Marella, both parties oblivious to each others presence in that brief second. That was, of course, until the girl jolted into alertness by the cluttering of Poppy in the corner of the room.</p><p>"Sorry love, didn't mean to wake you." the nurse smiled as her fingers danced around jars of potions, her pale skin seeming to radiate in the warmth of the sun-soaked room. It was winter now, but still, the fire in the sky always came.</p><p>   It always greeted humans and animals every morning without fail, summer or winter, cold or warm. That was loyalty. Even through hardships and pain it stayed.</p><p>"Its fine, I was only out for a bit." Marella smiled as she tossed her loose hair to the side of her neck. She was just stretching her limbs, shaking away the stiffness of an awkward position, when her attention was grabbed by the faces of familiars.</p><p>   Marella had said she felt sick in that moment for one plain reason — due to the sight of their faces, which was somewhat the truth. But it wasnt for the resentment she pretended to have on them, but for the wavering reminder of the friendship she once held with them.</p><p>Then she caught sight of Remus, his<br/>scraggy hair drenched with sweat that was now beginning to trickle down his forehead in heaps. Numerous scratches, deep and bloody,  pierced his soft skin with ferocity. Marella shut her mouth before it could open — no snarky comment escaped her lips, nor a snicker as it usually would.</p><p>    Every month he appeared to be ill, and it wasnt until she was faced with him in the flesh, that she realised how serious it was. But then again, what was <em>it</em>?</p><p>She turned her back on them, not wanting any intentional trouble, because although she may of had a loathing to a few of them, they didn't deserve the girls backlash right now. So Marella began to slowly pace herself back to Oscar's bed, only stopping when she heard a voice.</p><p>"What are you doing here?" it said with bitterness. It didn't take a fool to acknowledge who was facing her back. It was a voice she'd once heard everyday, one that she had shared sentences with, laughs, memories. But things change, and people do. So the Ravenclaw turned around, an apathetic expression shadowing over her—"None of your business Black." she retaliated.</p><p>"Who's here?" James asked as he turned his attention from his sickly friend and onto Marella, his face thus hardening. "Oh,<em> flamer</em>."</p><p>
  <em>Ouch.</em>
</p><p>Marella let out an individual laugh, one that scratched itself into the memories of the two boys for many moons to come. It had been piercingly harsh, laced with an undertone of pain and hurt.</p><p>Though they were just two clueless boys, not noticing how much that one comment had actually affected her, so they assumed she was just being rude. <em>Fools</em>.</p><p>Her nail began to scrape into the skin of her thumb, picking at it from behind as she finally found the confidence to continue, to them she was calm — unbothered — yet her body had just sunk internally. "Great chat, but im bored now." and with that she got ready to turn back round to the bed she'd been travelling to.</p><p>    Though, she was stopped quickly by the closeness of Sirius, who was now towering over her, face-to-face, his expression dripping with poison.</p><p>"Not so fast." Sirius uttered, "You never answered my question."</p><p>"Actually you'll find I did, but its okay I'll repeat it for you." her eyes glared right into his, pupils latched onto one another with fury. She saw it, the pain they held, just as she had on the train years prior.</p><p>    Now their eyes had finally reached each other, but all that stood between them was a firm shield of hatred. "I said—None of your business Black."</p><p>"It was just a question, I dont know why you have to be such a bitch all of the time." he let out an arrogant laugh, taking a step back as he held his hands up dramatically.</p><p>"I think she was just made that way." James pitched in.</p><p>"Or maybe," Marella spoke clearly, her posture straightening as she hid the cracks of solemn that were starting to deflate her into a puddle of weakness. "Somebody else made me that way."</p><p>Sirius scoffed, "And who was that?"</p><p>"We'd be here the whole damn day." the girl spoke before turning her back on them, face flushing red as she walked towards Oscar's bed. Once she was behind the white curtain, she finally exhaled.</p><p>It was safe to say, Marella's Monday morning was not going too well — and it had hardly even started!</p><p>Oscar finally awoke later, his eyes gradually peeing open when the suns rays became too intense to ignore. The heavy bags under his eyes had began to fade into his flesh, leaving with no signs of a scar, and the unfaltering grin present on his face seemed to contradict with how he was the previous day.</p><p>    But Marella was just glad he was infact okay. He had <em>scared</em> her yesterday.</p><p>"Bloody hell," Marella muttered as she looked over to her friend, "Poppy is talented, you actually look alive now."</p><p>"I feel it too." the boy grinned brightly as he pulled the white covers off himself, attempting to fully adjust into the morning. Though he quickly went against this decision, shoving it back over him as he bellowed out a groggy moan.</p><p>    The wind hadn't missed a beat, clinging against his skin once it was bare and revealed. "I'm never gonna get used to the winter weather." he shivered.</p><p>Marella shrugged in the response, to which Oscar looked down at her clothes; consisting of a loose pair of cotton shorts and an oversized cream jumper. Once she had picked up on the noticeable glance he was sending her way, she answered to what he'd been thinking. "I dont really feel the cold."</p><p>"Lucky git." Bridget said as she revealed herself from under the heaps of clinical blankets and cushions, poking her head out from the fort she'd made over two hospital chairs. "I feel like my toes are about to drop off."</p><p>Marella moved over to the girl, pinching at her cheeks dramatically as she cooed—"Awe you poor thing!"</p><p>    "Get off me!" Bridget responded, though she secretly loved the attention she was receiving, her effort to push Marella off being slightly too weak. Oscar shook his head at this, beginning to piece together a few things — ones that would only come back to bite the two girls in their arse.</p><p>"Alright! Alright." Marella laughed as she picked up the girls legs and threw them onto the floor, sitting down in the space they'd taken up. There was a high-pitched <em>hey!</em> that came from her friends mouth that she blanked, steering the conversation in a different direction.</p><p>    She looked up towards her friends, her eyes shifting between the two Ravenclaws, "...You wanna ditch the hospital doors and climb out the window?"</p><p>"I dont want to know why you think that would be a good idea." Oscar murmured as he wrapped the duvet around himself tightly, his head shaking with dismissal.</p><p>"You might not, but I do." Bridget spat before turning away from the boy. She kicked her feet up onto the girls lap, "Now Marella darling, why the flying fuck do you want to climb out of the window — straight into the cold snow with just our pjs on?"</p><p>She grinned in response, "Fun story for future kids?" but when the two sent her a judging glare she let out a quiet huff, lowering her voice into a whisper. "The marauders are here."</p><p>"<em>Huh?!</em>" Oscar perked up, his face tinting rose with mention of the group.</p><p>When Marella caught onto the reason why he was now so nervous, her mind brought back the image of Remus and the crippling state he was in when she saw him earlier. "I really dont think Remus is bothered about you right now, the boy is struggling to keep his eyes open."</p><p>Oscar looked down, concernment washing over his face, "ill again?" to which he received a hesitant nod from the Ravenclaw, his face thus dropping further. Any light that he'd been showing was now snatched from his skin by the news of Lupin.</p><p>"I wonder what's <em>actually</em> wrong with him." Bridget said in a hushed tone. "Surely something serious is going on with him, its too common to be a coincidence."</p><p>Marella let an emotionless exhale slip her lips while she bundled her hair into a low-bun — a few strands of loose hair slipping out, which she didn't bother moving in order to frame her face. "It's not really any of our business, I just hope hes safe."</p><p>"Me too." Oscar sighed.</p><p>"I just wonder wha—" Bridget was cut off by Marella who turned to face the girl, now strangely serious—"Bridge, curiosity killed the cat. It isn't our secret to know, or to gossip about."</p><p>And although Marella had no interest in finding out the boys secret, she was going to stumble upon it unintentionally very soon.<br/>▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃</p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. life is a little tragic, right?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>* this is for further in advanced &amp; i've already added it to the first page but i've aged Reggie up, he's only 1year younger than Sirius now!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
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  <em>TOO MUCH PERFECTION </em>
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  <em>IS A MISTAKE</em>
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</p><p>—<b>MARELLA'S EYES FLICKERED IN </b>and out of slumber, as her body slunk in a chair with lack of movement. It was only first lesson, and yet she was already on the verge of passing out. It seemed that an all-nighter didn't merge well with a lack of sleep in general, leaving her in an exhausted state. Now she only wanted to collapse in her bed and sleep off the overwhelming mood, but instead she sat in history of magic learning about European wizards.</p><p>    It didn't help that instead of the regular Hufflepuffs they usually shared the class with, it was now red-tied students that sat amongst them. After an absurd prank had occurred <b><em>( </em></b>clearly from the hands of the marauders <b><em>) </em></b>Binns had been forced to make some temporary changes to their timetable, and for once, Marella had to endure another lesson with the four boys she detested.</p><p>"Ella, could you make it any more obvious that you're sleeping?" Oscar whispered into her ear, as he furiously scribbled down notes for both of them. To which Marella let out an inhuman groan as her head slipped onto the shoulder of the boy next to her—"I can't help that Binns is so boring."</p><p>"You're right about that, I just wi—" Oscar's voice was cut off by a sharp scream that came  from the near back of the classroom. Marella twisted her head around, attention grabbed by the startling noise to see a Ravenclaw's book had been set ablaze. The burning fire crisped  the cover of the book, blazing statically. Professor Binns had picked up on the commotion quickly, his conversation coming to a sudden halt as he jolted to the girls desk — where he put out the spell before it could cause lasting damage.</p><p>The man's eyes panned across the room, scanning each of the students while his face grew beetroot with annoyance. "Who did this?" he declared but when no one answered, his voice only seemed to raise. "Whoever did this come forward now, my classroom is <em>not</em> a place for your pranks." his head instinctually turned towards the marauders, already assuming that it was them.</p><p>"Don't look at us, we're not the ones with a fire obsession." Sirius said as his eyes trailed over towards Marella, "isn't that right Bardot?" he then sneered.</p><p>Marella didn't waste a moment firing <br/>back, "If I was going to set anyones book on fire, Black, it would be yours." she hissed in response. "I mean it wouldn't make a difference, would it? I don't think i've ever seen you open one."</p><p>"Woah calm down, no need to get so <em>fiery</em>." James spat, causing both of the boys to let out an obnoxious laugh. Marella looked between them <b><em>( </em></b>after sharing a few classes with the group for over a year now <b><em>) </em></b>she was used to concealing her anger, not letting them get a rise out of her.</p><p>"Silence everyone!" Binns shouted as he let out a hefty exhale, his aged face showing signs of stress. "Miss Bardot, Mr Black outside my classroom now."</p><p>"<em>What</em>?!" Both of them shouted at the same time, their heads shooting towards the teacher with confusement.</p><p>Binns ignored their shouts, merely bringing his index finger up into the air, pointing towards the door, and only letting it drop when the two students had finally obliged. They trudged out of the room with sour looks on their face, ones that had been directed at him for a few minutes before they turned towards each other. </p><p> </p><p>𐐪𐑂<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>—<b>MARELLA FELT LIKE A </b>child as she stood outside the classroom, her back slumped against the cobbled wall as her shoes stood glued to the ground. Her arms were crossed over her chest firmly, and her lips let out an occasional sigh at the awkward situation before her. It had been a lengthy five minutes, time she would never get back, and  she'd much rather be rotting away in History of Magic than standing outside with the person she truly detested — but she didn't have any control over what was occurring.</p><p>    Although she was surrounded by a large hallway, Marella felt she was entrapped next to Sirius Black; frozen in place. It was as if the universe was forcing them to communicate, when ironically it had been the one to drive them apart.</p><p>Atlas, through the silence someone finally spoke—"Is he coming out here or not?" Marella said, her voice bitter with annoyance as she kept her eyes firmly on what lay ahead, refusing to glance at the boy next to her.</p><p>Sirius looked over at her, shocked to hear her through the thickening silence. For a brief second he didn't respond, and Marella ultimately thought he would just ignore her — though she was wrong with her assumption. The boy next to her had forcefully shut his mouth after he'd nearly offered for them to ditch together. "I dunno." he spoke in a monotone manner before turning his head around, poking his face against the small glass window. "He's teaching, or well mumbling on about something pointless, so likely no."</p><p>"Thats great." Marella groaned as she brought her hand through her hair, her skin being greeted by it's dampness. The girl had just found enough time to slip into the shower before lessons begun, and although she was used to leaving it wet, this morning it seemed to agitate her more than usual. She could feel the small goosebumps on her neck stand with coldness as it flickered against her flesh. </p><p>She let her eyes wander across the corridor, which was now vacant from roaming students, and suddenly she had the insatiable need to get out. Away from professor Binn's soon to be wrath, away from the judgemental stares of Sirius Black, and with thus she began to walk. It was like her feet had started back up manually, and soon they were already slamming against the floor, carrying her away from the tense situation. "Where are you going?" she heard Sirius shouting from across the corridor, to which she only let out a vaguely blunt answer of— <em>Away!</em></p><p>Although skipping class was hardly an accomplishment, Marella was strangely pleased with herself. She had — infact — spent more than a minute in proximity with Sirius Black without being brusque. Now that was an accomplishment she was willing to pat her back over. </p><p> </p><p>𐐪𐑂</p><p> </p><p>—<b>THE GIRL SAT IN </b><br/>her common room for merely half an hour before she was discovered by the head-of house, who seemed to be a stubby part-goblin with a growing moustache. Marella knew that she could take the small man down with a flick of her wand, a piece of information she kept in the back of the mind incase it came to that, though he really only sent her a disapproving glance. "I was contacted by professor Binns about your actions towards your fellow students and your lack of regard towards teachers." he said as she sat down in a seat, this was after she'd been  forcefully guided up to his office— with little choice on the matter at hand.</p><p>"First of all," Marella exhaled before leaning forwards, "I didn't do anything to my classmates, and really he showed a lack of respect for me first."</p><p>"Hows that miss Bardot?"</p><p>Marella rolled her eyes at his formality, "It doesn't matter." she vaguely said, knowing that it was too complex for her to explain to a random stranger, one she didn't feel particularly comfortable sharing with.</p><p>"I see miss Bardot, and why did this boy assume you had done what you did on that student?" he continued on, prying for any information he could possibly get out of the girl.</p><p>In that moment Marella wanted to scream at the teacher before her, to let her anger finally escape her chest; for a year now she had been the target of countless marauder pranks involving fire, that and she'd been given the insulting nickname that linked back to her past — so really, the answer was obvious. She was sick of professors turning a blind eye on her and countless others, "Maybe because i'm associated with fire at this school now?"</p><p>"I don't understand—" professor Flitwick began to say before Marella took over, finally letting everything escape her lips—"When are you and everyone else here, actually going to hold people accountable for their actions? I mean i've been tormented throughout this year and everyone seems to have turned a blind eye on it all." she began to rant before coming to a halt, realising that it was hardly this mans fault and he shouldn't be the one to receive the sharpness of her backlash.</p><p>"I'm sorry you feel this way," he began to speak reasonably, his face remaining calm at the students outburst. "however i'm in no authority to discuss these matters, especially because they are to do with an opposing house. If you wish I could schedule you an appointment with Dumbledore after the christmas break?"</p><p>If Marella had been younger she would've said no, brushed the prior entanglement under the rug, but she was so done. This was the only place the girl had now, and she didn't  appreciate the burdens she had to face each day. For too long she had swallowed her tongue, and this wasn't just to do with the marauders — they weren't the main problem, and Marella was ready to finally speak up again. She just hoped this time she wouldn't be shunned to silence, left feeling insignificant as she had priorly.</p><p> </p><p>𐐪𐑂<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>—<b>AFTER BEING DISMISSED FROM</b><br/>the office, Marella decided to blow-off classes that day, finding herself in the comfort of her bed before the clock could strike ten. Once her body  hit the mattress she was already out, the soft lulling of voices in the hallway ushering her into a state of sedateness, and for the first time in forever she slept reasonably well.</p><p>It may of only been for a few short hours, <br/>but it hadn't been disturbed by the piercing jab of her memories intruding her dreams, or from the constant paranoia of what she may open her eyes to find. It was a dreamless sleep, and the girl couldn't have been more thrilled to of finally escaped her mind for a little.</p><p>She had awoken on her own accord, <br/>when students were still in their last lesson of the day, and the castle had went somewhat silent. It was autonomous, her eyes peeling themselves back into the present — now devoid of their regular carmine colour. So Marella distracted herself with a book that had been sitting on her bedside table for a few days, she just hadn't the time to pick it up yet.</p><p> </p><p>𐐪𐑂</p><p> </p><p>—<b>THE GIRL APPEARED TO </b><br/>have obsession towards window ledges, finding herself pressed against one whenever the option occurred. There was a strange satisfaction she received when she was sitting on one; so close to a landscape, yet still so far away from it, blocked by the border of a glass panel. She would take in the sounds of what lay outside — whether it was birds conversing, or the sharp rain hitting against its glass. So on that foggy Monday, she sat with a book against her lap, on the ledge of her bedrooms oval window as her eyes took in the words of the story.</p><p>The novel hadn't been one she picked up <br/>in the Ravenclaw common room — those still sitting in a heap on her bedroom floor, gathering dust — but one she had picked up at Kings Cross. It had been on display within a small conventional shop — one of those that sold trashy magazines and greasy snacks —  and had really been a spur of the moment decision. She'd felt bad for slipping it into her jackets pockets at first before scanning the owners signs they had displayed on their wall, then she didn't feel bad at all. If she hadn't been explicitly banned from using magic outside her school — and her home, for the untraceable charm her family conveniently had — then she would've cursed the shopkeeper, maybe hexed his racist face, but instead she merely slipped some muggle food into her pocket alongside the book.</p><p>It wasn't exactly revenge, but it felt pretty good.</p><p>Now as she looked over the book, she couldn't help but feel a tinge of sickness gather at the back of her throat, for the description of the story was hardly enjoyable — distasteful really. But she swallowed her doubt and opened the first page, letting her brain slip into a state of reading.</p><p>Adara was the first to enter the room, sending a small smile in the direction of the girl as their eyes caught on one another. They hadn't really talked, so she made herself scarce with studying, gathering herself on her bed quietly. Then Bridget arrived a short while later, her body frantically sprinting in the direction of Marella—"What the fuck happened?" was all she spat at first before letting out a lengthy sigh, nudging her friend along to make space on the window-sill.</p><p>"Well I couldn't stand to be in Blacks presence any longer so I took off, of course Binns sent  Flitwick on me." Marella explained as Bridget sat down, her legs slipping onto her friends lap as usual.</p><p>Bridget looked up at the girl, concernment creeping around the corners of her mouth. "Did you get in trouble?"</p><p>"Oh no." Marella laughed as she finally closed her copy of Lolita, her head beginning to rest against the glass. "Did I miss anything?"</p><p>"Not really," she shrugged, "Oscar and I took notes for you, well in everything except divination."</p><p>Marella rolled her eyes, "Why did you two even take that subject if you hate it so much?"</p><p>"We thought it would be easy!" she uttered, "But i'm not dropping it now, too late in the year and i don't want to have one less subject on my OWL report."</p><p>"Fair enough." Marella said with a casual shrug before diverting her eyes to the foggy afternoon outside. "You wanna go on a walk?" she then asked. It was starting to get dark outside and the crispness of evening air was somewhat calling for the girl. She wanted out of the castle for a bit; only really to clear her mind.</p><p>"Sure." Bridget smiled as she pulled herself off the ledge, grabbing onto Marellas arm as she waved it in the air and tugging her into a standing position. The two of them began to grab their coats as they headed towards the dorm door, only coming to a halt when Marella abruptly turned around — looking towards the third girl they shared the room with. Marella had never really seen her with many friends, normally glued to her work or too deep within a book — "Hey, you wanna come with us?"</p><p>Adara looked up from her work, her face covered with confusement, "Me?" Bridget dramatically looked around the room at that, "Well who else?" she then said harshly, to which she received a sharp nudge to the side from Marella—"Yeah you, were just heading out for some fresh air."</p><p>"S-sure." the girl stammered as she dropped her quill and began to slip on a pair of combat boots and a bomber jacket, catching up with the two Raveclaws quickly. Her face was tinted with rose, and her posture was slightly shielded, but the two grinned on at her friendly. Marella knew what it was like to have no one, and though she might of been quite unfiltered when she wanted, she wasn't mean. So Marella intertwined her arm with the girls, linking them as they began to head out of the building. It was at that small contact that her shy demeanour began to falter.</p><p>The trio had picked up Oscar on their way through the common room, and now were chatting quietly among themselves as they strolled around the outer grounds. The sky was casted with greyness, ashy clouds concealing the sun with darkness as it gave out warning of an incoming storm. It was cold, but as Marella's arms grip tightened on Adara's, she found warmth in clinging to her new friend.</p><p>"So what's the deal with you and the marauders?" Adara hummed quietly to the girl next to her as the other two Ravenclaws were too busy bickering to even pick up a word. But as Adara looked on at Marella, her left eyebrow arched slightly — "The prank last year?" she guessed, causing Marella to nod hesitantly.</p><p>"It wasn't what they did, I could've possibly forgiven them for that, it's everything that happened after." she wasn't used to talking about the marauders, Oscar and Bridget usually steering away from the subject, but truthfully it didn't hurt as much as she thought it would. "Everyone started calling me flamer, them included, and their teasing became relentless. That and they never defended me from the nastier comments that other students sent my way."</p><p>Adara shook her head, "Well personally i didn't think it was funny, and the nickname flamer isn't even good." she said reassuringly, and with that Marella let out a genuine smile as she leant her head against the students shoulders—"I can't believe it took us this long to be friends, especially since we share a dorm. I think the last time I had actually spoken to you was..."</p><p>"—when you returned my notes!"</p><p>"Oh shit yeah, that was<em> so</em> long ago." </p><p> </p><p>𐐪𐑂</p><p> </p><p><b>—IT WAS NAUTICAL TWILIGHT </b><br/>when they returned back to the castle, the sky seeming to drop any colour it was still clutching onto — it's saturation now in the minuses. Marella had found herself wedged between Oscar and Adara during dinner, the book she'd previously been reading taking up her attention while Bridget and Oscar made themselves more familiar with Adara. She let her left ear listen into the conversation, as her eyes stood sternly on the page until she couldn't take it anymore, slamming down the book with noticeable force. Her friends turned to look at her as their previous discussion came to an abrupt interruption. "I can't read this shit anymore." Marella spat.</p><p>"I'm not surprised." Oscar uttered as he took hold of the novel, "Lolita is fucking creepy, why exactly are you reading it?"</p><p>"Dunno I just thought i'd try it." she shrugged, to which Adara 's face arrayed confusement—"You have a huge stack of stuff to read at the bottom of your bed." she then said towards Marella.</p><p>"I prefer muggle books." Marella responded with mundane as she took out her wand and flicked the book into a pile of crispy ashes. "Though I don't particularly enjoy reading about pedos."</p><p>"I'm glad." Bridget said sarcastically as she gathered the pile of dust into a napkin, dumping it on her empty plate. "Why don't we go shopping during the christmas holiday for some new ones? I fancy getting some too."</p><p>Oscar let out a loud snicker, "You don't fancy getting any books, you just fancy seeing the girls at the bookstores." he let out a shit-faced grin at the girl. "I know your type Bridge."</p><p>Bridget huffed, "I'm sorry that I have a very specific idea of what I want my future to consist of."</p><p>"Which is what?" Marella asked curiously as she picked at a slice of buttered bread, her eyes panning between the food and her friend politely.</p><p>"Well you see—" Oscar cut the girl off, "Don't get her started, we'll be here all night." he said with a sense of seriousness.</p><p>"Anyways!" Marella said quickly, deeming the previous conversation a topic she didn't want to stumble over — knowing that her friend could talk on for hours about the most mediocre things. It didn't help that her friend was also trying to make plans for Christmas, ones that Marella would have to turn down — once she was back at the manor, there was no escaping. "I have an appointment with old Dumby tomorrow."</p><p>"You have, <em>what</em>?" Adara asked, as the other two leant over with intrigue, their faces answering for them.</p><p>"I went off on Flitwick earlier, telling him how teachers are turning a blind eye on some students, letting them get away with shit. So he arranged for me to meet up with Dumbledore and discuss it further."</p><p>"Is this about the marauders?"</p><p>"I mean originally it was," Marella said as she pushed her plate to one side, deciding that the bread was too soggy to eat. "but then it became more about the Slytherins, how they're practicing dark magic and doing all sorts of creepy stuff for higher-people while in these walls."</p><p>"By higher-people, you mean the dark lord?" Oscar gulped, the nervousness showing itself from the way his fingers now held onto eachother tightly, to the paleness his face displayed. He had every right to be scared at Marella's statement, as did Bridget opposite, for they were both muggle-borns.</p><p>"Don't call him that, he's no fucking lord." Marella spat with distaste. "He's just some twisted man with nazi-like views."</p><p>"But that's what they call him." Oscar said timidly in response, referring to a cluster of green-tied students in their year that had became quite familiar with Voldemort and his beliefs.</p><p>"They might call him that because of their nasty-blooded families, but that doesn't mean we should. I'm not going to give him that sort of power."</p><p>"Uh Ella? Aren't you also a 'nasty-blood'?" Oscar asked, causing the girl next to him to let out a brief <em>yup —</em>popping the p's with strange enthusiasm— "I'm not proud of it, trust me." she then said through the short silence.</p><p>"Aren't all pure-bloods related to eachother? Or well ones who a part of the sacred selection?" Adara then said, to which Marella let out a nod—"Most of the time they marry into each others families to keep the bloodlines pure or yknow just result in inbreeding." Marella said, letting out a chuckle as she watched her friends faces turn pale with disgust.</p><p>"Does that mean...you're related to Sirius Black?" Bridget questioned, eyes wide with shock.</p><p>To that Marella let out a snort, before answering her question. "No im not, up until recently my family hadn't reached pure-blood status, only gaining it within the last decade. We barely have any ties with the <em>scareds</em> at all."</p><p>It was at the end of dinner, Marella on her way towards the library to catch up on what she'd missed, when she was stopped by the grip of someone trying to gain her attention. Flickering her head around, she was only greeted with the face of Oscar who had been following Bridget up towards the common room, though he definitely wasn't with her anymore. "Uh hey Mars, can we talk?" he asked quietly, distress now concealed over him like a dark shadow. Marella could see it clearly, and with that she gulped, bracing herself for what he may ask.</p><p>Marella nodded as they began to walk towards the library, "What's up?"</p><p>"Do you er know anything else about Vold..." he began to say before stopping, scared to mutter his full name.</p><p>"Voldemort? Yeah, a bit. Why?" she said with little fear in her tone.</p><p>"Well I just wanted to know more about him, since my situation puts me at risk and all that."</p><p>"Of course, i have to go up to the library but meet me at the kitchens tonight and we can talk there. I don't know that much though, only what my parents have mentioned."</p><p>Oscar let out a deep sigh before forcing a <br/>fake smile to take over his worried face, his nerves easing slightly. "Okay thankyou." he said as he began to turn, only being stopped when Marella spoke once more— "Oh and Oscar, I wouldn't worry about him. He's not going to hurt you."</p><p>But those were empty words, because Marella Bardot didn't have any control on who the man would target next, because really she was just a voice in a sea of many.<br/>▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃<br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/></p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. she waits, seething, blooming</h2></a>
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    <em>THE UNFED MIND DEVOURS ITSELF</em>
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</p><p><b>    —MARELLA BARDOT HAD A </b><br/>dilemma, and it wasnt one that she could fix with a mediocre pro and cons list, infact it was one she couldn't fix at all. Although she was naturally gifted with booksmarts, her lack of effort to work tarnished any ounce of success she could possibly grasp onto. So the scores on her test always came back lowly, marked with degrading numbers that decreased as time moved on, and soon she found herself apathetic. Unbothered by her own wasted potential. Marella wasn't trying to fail herself — it had never been her plan, nor did she necessarily want to. But it seemed that some things would never change, one of those being that the Ravenclaw still <b><em>( </em></b>after all that time <b><em>) </em></b>believed she wouldn't have a future.</p><p>    Things had gotten better, <em>sure</em>, but it didn't necessarily change anything. One day she would be forced into a marriage, it was inevitable on her part, and really the clock was just ticking away — taunting her with the knowing fact that she was property on sale. Marella didn't know when her last second of freedom would be, but she did know it was creeping up on her, because time was merely a concept — one that was short and cruel. And soon enough, she would be chained to one man. One man who would then decide on everything forward, thrown into the simple lifestyle of a follower.</p><p>She wasn't different to any other pure-blood out there <b><em>(</em></b> with exemptions for the likes of the Potters <b><em>)</em></b> because she would be succumbed to the lifestyle of a powerless wife just as any other female who shared the unlucky lifestyle as her would be. She knew that soon enough she would be drunk on not only jealousy of those who got to live but also from expensive wine that she would down until she couldn't feel anything anymore. Until she couldn't remember anything. Until she was happy.</p><p>But that would never come.</p><p>    So what was the real point in trying? What was the point in succeeding, when she would be stripped from her rights soon enough? Marella Bardot was on borrowed time, and there was nothing she could possibly do about it.</p><p>    Things had changed since she set her house on fire, since she rebelled against her family in the most conspicuous way possible. The girl knew now that she could protest all she wanted, but really, it didn't matter. Nothing really mattered. This was because Marella Bardot didn't have someone to fall back on like Sirius Black did, she didn't have a shiny replacement family waiting for her the moment she got into a squabble with her own parents. Sure she'd had people who'd somewhat cared for her, but it was different, if they took her in she would just be a burden. But Fleamont and Euphemia Potter looked at the Black with love— like parents would a son. Yet if Marella had went to one of her friends homes, she would've been looked at with hostility, for she was a stranger amongst blood.</p><p>    That was of course until she stepped afoot Hogwarts, until she met the faces of Oscar Scotts and Bridget Walsh. Until she found herself with friends — not the type you befriend out of convenience , but the real ones. Ones that want you to do well, that support you throughout anything unconditionally. And with that, Marella realised that maybe she had found her own people, her own group of marauders, her own safe-haven. So she picked up her stack of notes and headed through the corridor — on route towards the Hogwarts library.</p><p> </p><p>𐐪𐑂</p><p> </p><p><b>    —AT THE ELEVENTH STRIKE </b><br/>of the night, Marella could be found groaning into a notebook, her tired face practically slumped on the wooden desk before her. The brooding storm outside was now hurling itself against the windows and walls, begging —pleading— to be let in, to let its icy rays shoot down onto the students. To engulf them in coldness.</p><p><em>    Marella!</em> a voice sprung the girl into sudden awareness, to which she quickly pulled herself upwards, "what? hello?" the Ravenclaw then called out with confusement as she wiped away the drool from her lips — eyes slowly adjusting to the bright lights of the area around her.</p><p>    Once she was somewhat seeing again, she was able to make out the shining appearance of Lily Evans. The girl greeted Marella with a sarcastic smile <b><em>(</em></b> though it was still surprisingly genuine <b><em>)</em></b> as she scuffled onto the opposite chair, an unamused expression taking over her face — with a slight hint of callousness knitted in the corners of her mouth.</p><p>    "Glad to see you're taking your studies seriously." she murmured before realising how abrupt her word choice had been, so she softened her voice to a much nicer tone before adding, "Seriously are you okay? Do you need help?"</p><p>    Marella let out a short chuckle, closing the book. "I do, but if I look at this one more time i'm going to scream. Or maybe pass out.. i haven't really decided which one seems more satisfying."</p><p>    "I'd definitely suggest sleeping first, you look like a mess."</p><p>    Marella rolled her eyes, "Awe stop it Lily, you'll make me blush." she said sarcastically.</p><p>    The girl opposite shook her head at the snarky comment, "You sound like Potter." she responded with, to which the Ravenclaw let out a scowl, followed along by—"Now that was the biggest insult you could of ever said."</p><p>    "Oh! I forgot you hated him as much as I did." Lily breathed out, a small smile tugging at her lips due to their common interest. "Anyways, you're struggling with potions?" her eyes narrowed, "Or is this just some—"</p><p>    "No! I swear!" Marella spluttered out, remembering what their previous encounter in the library had been like. It seemed as if it was forever ago, when in reality it'd just been over a year. "It's just these notes, I can't understand them." she then explained before adding under her breath, "Trust Oscar to have shitty writing."</p><p>    "Oh well you can have mine if you want." Lily beamed as she slipped off the bag that had been previously draped over her shoulder, "I'm done with them anyways." she then said comfortingly as her fingers grazed across the notebook, pulling it out and sliding it across the library table.</p><p>    "You're amazing." Marella said in response as she shoved Oscar's notes to one side, eagerly taking Lily's in.</p><p>Lily excused herself after their brief conversation, ready to settle down for the night, though both of the girls knew that neither one of them would get a wink of sleep if the storm outside were to persist. It was reckless now, plummeting onto the ground with such force that Marella was sure the floor might crack if it didn't calm down. They were both in for a long night, <em>that was for sure.</em></p><p> </p><p>𐐪𐑂</p><p> </p><p><b>    —IT WAS DURING THE </b>darkest part of the night when Oscar decided to show, when any remaining life in the library had finally trudged up to bed, leaving Marella alone with only herself and the vast rows of books that surrounded her within dusty shelves. It had been later than Marella had presumed, but she didn't really mind — still catching up on the days work. That was alongside the stack of homework that had her name written on, so as he apologised profusely for taking so long, Marella couldn't help but shrug it off with little care for his time management skills.</p><p>"So er—Voldemort." Oscar said lowly and with that the girl brought her sole attention up towards him, their eyes locking on one another. The ambience in the room seemed to shift from then on out, the air thickening around them lousily. It was a claustrophobic mess, but neither of them backed down.</p><p>So she explained everything the boy needed to know, from the attacks on muggleborns to the recruiting Riddle seemed to be doing — though she made sure to exclude the darker details, hoping that he would never have to witness them. Though the same pale look he'd had when Tom Riddle's name first came up had latched onto his face once more, and with that Marella began to regret informing him on anything.</p><p>Some people are better off oblivious, living in a world of their own, shielded from the harsh truth of the reality they live in.</p><p>Marella couldn't bare seeing her friend like this, not over something that he couldn't possibly help. So she let her hand slip into his comfortingly, rubbing his knuckles with her fingers as she looked up to her friend—"Nothing is going to happen to you, seriously." she then said sternly.</p><p>He let out a weak smile at her attempt to reconcile his worries, though both of them could tell how faux it had been. Oscar caught onto this after a moment, bellowing out a deep sigh that had been hanging heavy in his chest, "But you can't promise that."</p><p>"Oscar, listen to me. I'm not going to let anything happen to you, i'll kick Riddle's arse if I have to." and with that he finally let out a genuine chuckle, his nerves calming slightly at her stern words. Although she had said it with humour, it was the truth. She didn't have anything to be scared of, because if she were to die, not much would've been lost. But Oscar was different, he had a loving family, a good future ahead of him. She was jealous really, as she was the rest of her friends, for they had so much ahead of them.</p><p>They could comment on her status, envious of the power she held — like the way she could manipulate anyone under her to do as she wished. Or the fact that her surname was laced with money, not the type that gets you into fancy muggle universities, but the type that makes you an international target. But in reality, they had everything, <em>not her</em>.</p><p>"Is that Lily's potions book?" Oscar then blurted out as he took hold of the book, his eyes shifting. "What happened to mine?"</p><p>"Well er—"</p><p> </p><p>𐐪𐑂</p><p> </p><p>—<b>RAIN LASHED DOWN ONTO </b>Hogwarts with such force that the three girls in the dorm were restless in their sleep, the abstruse noise of the spindling storm keeping them all awake. For a short while they busied themselves with studying, burying their noses into clunky books as they tried to make good use of their time awake.</p><p>That was until Marella put a stop to the torture, after her head felt like it may explode if it was forced to look at another fact about a Bowtruckle, she gathered her friends and a few other Ravenclaws in the common room and forced them into a game of truth or dare. Cliche? Possibly, but she was out of other options and in need of a quick escape.</p><p>Of course it wasn't the regular muggle version of the game, but one that had been tainted with the miraculous benefits of magic they all appeared to possess. Now it was accompanied with a bottle of fire whisky <b><em>(</em></b> after Bridget had stated that the childish game was only fun if everyone was completely wasted <b><em>)</em></b> and a tall glass of a clear liquid — or in magical terms, truth serum. Which really meant that a player couldn't use truth as a scapegoat to get out of doing something embarrassing.</p><p>The group was ready to play, all sitting amongst the roaring fire with warm sweaters and thickening blankets, as if they were in some picture book. Though Marella should've known that things had to go downhill fast, it was too peaceful, too serene to stay that way. With only a small group letting out muffled laughter as they huddled together, it was too <em>good</em>. <em>Too unlike Marella. </em>And of course the disruption she had been waiting for arrived while she was clutching onto a hot chocolate the house elves had made for her and the others, nearly letting it smash onto the floor when she caught sight of them. Marella was surprised the drink hadn't toppled out of its holster and scalded her in that moment, as she looked on with pure disbelief, but then again, she would of hardly noticed. Now her eyes stood transfixed on the group of red-tied students who had just casually moved near the fire, muttering amongst themselves quietly.</p><p>Marella was furious, to put it lightly — really she was burning crimson with rage. The one place where the marauders were incapable of locating her, the one place she was free from their dirty hands, had now just been destroyed. She couldn't tell what was hotter, her burning face or the beverage she was about to pour over the four. "What the fuck are you doing here?" she finally spat once her body had began to ease back into alertness, and with that, everyones voice dimmed into silence; their bodies hanging onto the edge of their seats with anticipation. Wherever Marella went, the marauders seemed to be behind <b><em>(</em></b> even before everything had went down <b><em>)</em></b> and the people nearby instinctively knew to shut their mouths, inhaling the drama like it was a solvent.</p><p>"Well that's no way to treat your guests," Sirius grinned at the girl as he took a seat down next to her, his face seeming to find the situation occuring quite humorous. James followed after his friend, taking the last available space on the crushed-blue sofa—"No manners, honestly." James shook his head dismissively towards Marella, his own lips tugging at a grin.</p><p>With this Marella took the bottle of fire whiskey that had been standing tall on the coffee table, letting the cool liquid slip past her throat with a forcible burn. She could feel the sting of it as it washed into her stomach, but she'd much rather feel like that then be sober.</p><p>So she took another swig.</p><p>"Easy tiger." Oscar said cautiously as he took the alcohol away from the girls grip, shoving it down the side next to him. Marella sent a snarly look at her friend, missing it already.</p><p>"It's almost as if she doesn't want to be sober around us." James said with a chuckle, causing Remus <b><em>(</em></b> situated on a small grandfather chair opposite them <b><em>)</em></b> shook his head, muttering to himself— "I wonder why."</p><p>Marella could feel the pounding jab of intensity hit against her head, either she was having a stroke or the alcohol was starting to kick in — either of those options being okay with the girl. So she leant further back on the chair, rolling up the sleeves of her top as she uttered towards the Gryffindors— "How did you even get in here?" To that James and Sirius let out a shared laugh, one Peter attempted to join in with, though it only made the thing more uncomfortable. "Who says we didn't threaten the eagle on the door? Just as you did the fat lady?" Sirius challenged her, the left side of his mouth curving upwards.</p><p>"Because none of you could scare a baby." Marella fired back quickly, the words slipping from her lips like acid on ones tongue. "Me on the otherhand—" the girl was cut off when James snickered over the top of her—"Well you are pretty scary so that's true."</p><p>And with that, James Fleamont Potter found a hard cushion smushed against his face.</p><p>"Anyways!" Bridget said as she drove everyone's attention back to the game, "We will go in a circle, me first then Oscar, and so on."</p><p>"Let's get this started then," Oscar laughed as he pulled the bottle from the floor and to his lips. Taking a moderate swig from it, then letting out a loud cough, "Bloody hell." he spluttered out afterwards as he attempted to regain his posture.</p><p>"Hey! So you're allowed to drink but i'm not?" Marella declared, to which Oscar let out a sloppy shrug—"I don't trust you with alcohol."</p><p> </p><p>𐐪𐑂</p><p> </p><p>—<b>THE GAME SEEMED TO </b>pick up from there, with student after student carefully choosing one of the two options <b><em>(</em></b> though they both appeared to end in optimal embarrassment <b><em>)</em></b> and going through with what they had been told. If it wasn't for Marella's unfeasible confidence that had been heightened due to her intoxication, the party would have died down long ago. The girl didn't dare mutter the word <em>truth</em>, picking the other option every single time — no matter how unruly the dares would get. Because she didn't care for kissing some random stranger, or embarrassing herself infront of Ravenclaw <b><em>(</em></b> plus the four marauders that had intruded into the gathering <b><em>)</em></b> but she did care —an awful lot— about finally letting something slip about her home life. So she forced the burning liquid to consume her mouth, and continued to push on, letting the cringe stay buried inside of her. All while knowing it would resurface tomorrow, a thought that had also been buried.</p><p>But then of course, out from the mouth of one smart-arsed Ravenclaw, Marella found herself presented with no other option but to reveal a concealed part of herself. She wondered why in that second she'd decided to play with a bunch of kids who were too clever for their own good, but presented with the statement 'I dare you to pick truth' Marella's soberness kicked in, jolting her back into the present day, only leaving her with a slight headache and the fact that she now had to pick the one option she didn't ever want to stumble over.</p><p>"Fine." she snarled before pulling herself up from the sofa, sitting in an upright position. "Hit me with it then, since you're so desperate to get some information out of me." she knew her tone and wording was somewhat hostile, but she really didn't care. Surely a bunch of smart students could figure out that if Marella was willing to snog a stranger, or preform a sole-opera performance infront of everyone, her secrets didn't want to be revealed. But nevertheless, they pushed and in return — caused a bigger storm than the one occurring outside.</p><p>Sirius Black had beenstaring at her the whole night, his eyesight attempting to travel off towards the sandy haired girl who'd been shooting flirtatious glances, before being lured back to her face unintentionally. He didn't know what it was, maybe the lack of care she displayed while agreeing to the most mortifying dares, or the way she'd effortlessly preform them all while looking unruly like herself — which in that moment was beautiful. Then again, he'd narrowed it down to the alcohol, because <b><em>(</em></b> something he'd told himself countless times over <b><em>)</em></b> there was no way he even had a slight interest in <em>the</em> Marella Bardot. The girl who he sent dismissive looks towards in the corridors, the girl he could be found bitching on about during the early hours of the morning. <b>Flamer</b>.</p><p>Sirius wasn't going to let this slight appeal get in the way of anything, infact he had enshrouded it so deep inside of him that he was convinced it could never emerge again; though he was just as dumb as he was a fool, because it all had to come flooding out at one point. His feelings that plummeted his stomach, growing and spreading, would reach the surface one day.</p><p>Marella took a swig of the truth serum, something she had been able to avoid all night. She felt like an idiot in that second, knowing that she should never of suggested a game that could've put her at potential risk of being discovered. She didn't want anyone to know about the starvation, or the domestic violence, or the unforgivable spells. It just took one douse of the potion, one question from the mouth of another in order for everything to crumble.</p><p>The thing with the game <b><em>(</em></b> because there was always a fucking thing <b><em>)</em></b> was that along with ultimately being forced to confess the truth, the person asking the question was also allowed to ask follow up questions. Marella didn't care when they had invoked this rule, which had been created to find out the name of Sirius Black's first ever victim <b><em>(</em></b> or conquest in his own words <b><em>),</em></b> but now she definitely did.</p><p>"Why did you care so much about the prank the marauders played on you?" the fifth year Ravenclaw asked, and with that it appeared everyone went silent. The emptiness of the once roaring atmosphere seemed to strike Marella, and while she was glad the question hadn't been about her parents, this one was really just as scarring.</p><p>Her lips moved before her brain could process anything, already letting out the answer without consultation. "Because I suffered and still do suffer from <em>PTSD, </em>due to <em>that</em> night in the manor and because of my par—" her hands shot up towards her lips, acting forcefully as she refused to let anything else slip. Now everyone around her knew of something she'd grown accustomed to keeping private, and she didn't enjoy it.</p><p>Now she wasn't perfect in the eyes of the other students, now she wasn't the mysterious, carefree girl she had worked so hard to become.</p><p>Her mask had fallen, and the real skin she showed was ugly.</p><p>The four marauders weren't looking at her spitefully, not a hint of malign hung from their faces, they just stared on sheepishly — waiting for more information, possibly feeling guilty for their actions, or more likely trying to decipher what the words PTSD meant. Nobody could ever know with them, they were either sincere or not, and right now their expressions were conflicting.</p><p>"Have you ever forgiven them for their actions?" the housemate continued, thinking through his next words carefully — though he didn't seem to bothered that he'd just outed her disorder to an entirety of students. But then again he was a pure-blood, likely to be unaware of such things existing, Marella didn't hate him for this. She resented what he had done, and how he had went about doing it, but she didn't hate him. He was just a clueless teenager that had accidentally stumbled into something a lot darker, <em>curiosity killed the cat. </em></p><p>Marella let out a cold-hearted chuckle, "Well in order to forgive them, i'd need an apology."</p><p>"We did apologise!" Pete squeaked defensively for the other three. Sirius and James were still blank of what to say, frozen in their seats, and Remus had seemed to take the pitiful approach — his eyes standing on the ground out of shame. If there was any of them that the girl could forgive, it was Lupin for he was the only one she truly knew felt guilty.</p><p>"I meant sincerely." she fired back and with that she let go of the strain she'd succumbed herself to — trying to stop herself from saying too much while being under the influence of the serum. She let words fall out of her mouth with little care now. She was too drunk, and too frustrated, and too tired to continue fighting the potion... from fighting them...from fighting <em>everything</em>. "You only apologised because I reacted badly, because you felt that you needed to in order to gain back our friendship."</p><p>"Friendship?"  Sirius snickered, finally woken from his daze. As he looked on at the girl he'd just previously admired, he turned cold — an instinctive approach that he seemed to use when someone disagreed with him. "We knew you for a few months, nobody actually wanted you there." and with that he knew he'd crossed a line, threw the salt over the healing wound. Truthfully the Gryffindor hadn't meant to say it, the words had just slithered out of him, maybe it was because of the alcohol, maybe because it was of the feelings he was starting to gain, but either way they weren't true.</p><p>All four of the marauders knew that, but Marella Bardot didn't.</p><p>Suddenly everything felt like Ilvermorny again, the contemptible stares of kids who loathed the girl only for her rebellious nature, the bitter remarks that fired from their lips as she walked by. The sense of unwelcomingness she had experienced everyday. There and within the walls of her home. And now here too.</p><p>She couldn't escape it, she would never be good enough.</p><p>So Marella pulled herself up, body slightly dazy from the alcohol, and began to push her way past the blue-tied students. But just as her feet reached the first step, just as she had finally reached her route to safety, she made the daring option of turning back round. Her eyes landing on the faces of everyone, where she took in their varied expressions for a moment before turning to look at the group of boys; more specifically one boy. "I hate you." she muttered quietly, though the force of her words made a beeline straight into the guts of the stormy-eyed Gryffindor, freezing him into a sudden state of panic.</p><p>They had been enemies for a year now, but hearing those three words come from her lips had startled him. Even Sirius himself knew he deserved it, but he couldn't comprehend why it hurt so fucking much.</p><p>Out of all the degrading names and phrases that had been directed his way by his own blood, this one topped them all, and when he found her eyes they were lost. Gone. Or really, they had become numb to his. There was no spark of intensity as both their pupils reached eachother, just the cold lonely devoidness.</p><p>Marella wanted to run, to let her feet pound against the floor and take her away from here. But then again, she had no destination. She was just the shell of a broken pilgrim now, and with that information she cried. But only once she was finally away from everyone's stares, they didn't need to see her final shard break.</p><p>The tears cascaded down her tired skin with force, creating watery lines as they sunk deep within her flesh. Soon they were mixed with the darkness of her mascara, leaving behind a mixed mess of salty water and burning chemicals. The words Sirius had spat at her ricocheted in her mind, repeating themselves tauntingly as she collapsed into a ball in her dorm room.</p><p>The words inside her head only seemed to shutup when Blaire and Adara came bursting in, their faces desperate to catch sight of their friend, though as their eyes finally found her, finally tracked her down — she looked little like herself and more like a broken mess.</p><p>Marell tried to brush off the tears, to mask away her swollen red face, but it was no use. They'd seen her, and she'd seen them.</p><p>That's the funny thing with vulnerability, it always appears to show itself when least expected <b><em>(</em></b> forcing its way through the walls of trauma and past pain and emerging <b><em>).</em></b> Marella didn't speak, afraid everything would come tumbling out, so instead she buried herself into the comfort of her two friends frames.</p><p>She was practically strangers with them, and yet their arms instantly wrapped around her, pulling her rugged limbs against theres, supporting and holding her. They'd never seen her like this before, and to them it was beautiful —</p><p>Not the usual type of ethereal dresses and pink lips beautiful, but the truly real type of beautiful. That under the layers of thick makeup and sickly smiles there truly was a soul there. She wasn't higher than them, royalty amongst peasants, but just a girl. A girl who was hurting, as everyone else was.</p><p>She was so average, and that was beautiful.</p><p> </p><p>𐐪𐑂</p><p> </p><p>—<b>IT WAS DURING THE </b>late hours of Wednesday evening when Marella finally pulled herself up from the pits of her bed, where her body had laid for countless hours and finally decided to show her face to the school.</p><p>She knew that the lousy excuse of having a hangover could only work for a little longer, and with that the girl thought it would be better to reveal herself on her own terms than from some nosey Ravenclaws storming into her room — eager to get a glimpse at the hot-headed student after her blowup the previous night. So with that, she slipped on a loose pair of ripped jeans and a cropped sweater and began to trudge her way down to the common room.</p><p>Flashes of blue surrounded the students, clinging onto their robes, their scarfs, even the walls appeared to be laced with the royal colour. The Ravenclaw common room was packed for its hours, with students hurrying to finish last minute assignments; the cluttering of parchment paper to the scraping of quills. But when Marella came into eyeview, her feet carrying her down the staircase, everyone's attention seemed to be on something a little taller than their studies.</p><p>By Tuesday morning everyone had heard, and with that, Marella Bardot's name was fired around school once more. Her name couldn't be possibly more tainted now, but she found herself unbothered with it. The initial embarrassment of the game had worn off, and now she just wished to get back to avoiding everyone.</p><p>"Piss off." Marella uttered to the area as she walked by, letting her snarly face do the rest of the work.</p><p>"Fucking hell, you're scary." Bridget murmured as she dumped her potions book into her bag, making way over towards the wall where Marella was. The girl looked up, letting out a light-hearted snicker—"Thankyou, I do try." and with that they left the common room, walking towards a new cluster of nosey students.</p><p>But it was okay, she wasn't scared to face them, for she had Bridget by her side. The friend clinging onto her hand supportingly as they strolled into the main hall.</p><p>If only Marella had known how nervous Bridget had been in that moment — nervous for what they might say to her friend, nervous for how she might react. Because although it was clear that Bridget Walsh had feelings for Marella Bardot, their friendship and her well-being came first.<br/>▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃</p>
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<a name="section0012"><h2>12. power of concealment</h2></a>
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</p><p><b>—THE VARIED STUDENTS IN </b><br/>the main hall turned to face the girl, like dominos toppling over one another in a coordinated manner — intrigue laced in their expressions as they looked on at her; muttering, whispering, <em>judging</em>. Everyone seemed to of paused in that moment, desperate to take in the sight of Marella Bardot. Every move she made, every flinch that escaped her limbs was noticed by them. She felt meek —timorous really— before them, though she didn't let it show.</p><p>    In reality, she looked invincible in the moment, her back straightened with precision <b><em>( </em></b>as her mother had taught her many years prior <b><em>) </em></b>and her expression unfaltering to ones eyes. Though Marella assumed the students were assessing each imperfection that grazed her skin, she was wrong, for they were taken back at her calmness — knowing if any of them had found themselves in her shoes, they'd already be on their way back home.</p><p>    It was strange how ones own perspective could be so different to anothers, and the feelings they bundled up inside of them could be so discreet that no one would ever presume she was slipping into the darkness.</p><p>    "How can she do that?" Sirius muttered to his friends as they sat amongst the red table, James on the left side of him <b><em>( </em></b>following along with everyone's else's stares <b><em>) </em></b>and Remus on the other  <b><em>( </em></b>too busy within his book to look up <b><em>)</em></b>.</p><p>    "Doing what?" Peter said through a muffled voice, tearing into a buttered croissant as he diverted his eyes back and forth between the girl and a newspaper.</p><p>    "Acting like she doesn't care, everyone has just stopped to stare at her, and she doesn't even mind." Sirius explained with confusement, his left eyebrow arching slightly. In true honesty, Marella did care, more than she would ever lead on, but she'd learnt at such an early age to never display this weakness — and now she was basically a master at disguising it.</p><p>    James fumbled his hands through his hair, the weathering scent of strawberry shampoo engulfing his nose. "It's fucking creepy really." he then added after a moment, finally de-tangling his fingers from his locks. "Look at her eyes, they haven't moved once from her food, I swear she must be some sort of robot. Certainly not the girl we used to know."</p><p>    Remus looked up from his book, disgruntled by the loudness of his friends voices. "You should really find a new topic." he muttered towards them as he slipped a bookmark onto the page he'd finished at. When they hardly took notice of him, continuing to murmur on about her, he persisted—"Seriously! When are you two going to stop talking about her? It's been a year now." He was sick of hearing about her — for her name only made him feel worse about what had happened. He wished he'd stopped his friends while he had the chance, just as he wished he was still friends with her.</p><p>    "Cmon moony, you heard what she said." Sirius groaned, "She hates us."</p><p>    "Rightfully so!" the Lupin then spluttered out, "Do you not understand how damaging your prank was on her? And it doesn't even matter that your apology wasn't sincere, you continue to agitate her in every way possible. If i was her, i'd hate you too." the words slipped out of his mouth before he could think through them,  it was reckless. The Gryffindor had always contemplated what he was to say before it ever surfaced from his lips, but this time they had come spilling out carelessly. He'd went against his friends words — something that wasn't a regular occurrence for the teenager—and really, he didn't regret it.</p><p>    "Well if you care so much, why don't you go join her?" Peter spat, face boiling red with the conflict occurring between his group. Agitation swept over Remus' quickly at this statement, his eyes darting between his friends, though Peter appeared to be the only one affected by his outburst.</p><p><em>    "Woah</em> wormtail, don't be daft." Sirius then said, letting out a deep exhale. "Moony, you can do whatever you want with her, but i'm not forgiving her."</p><p>    "Me either." James mumbled in agreement.</p><p>    "Don't you understand that—" he paused his sentence, realising that it wasn't worth it. The boys weren't going to understand they were the ones needing to be forgiven, so he dropped the subject. "Whatever." he slumped back down in his seat, face crumbling with tiredness — which had been mostly from the argument but also due to the lasting effects of the full moon. He traced over a new scar that had formed on his skin Sunday night, thinking amongst himself on what he should do.</p><p>He really had no choice, he was going to apologise; sincerely.</p><p>Marella had now taken to playing with the food on her plate <b><em>( </em></b>which consisted of a few potatoes and a heap of green peas <b><em>) </em></b>eyes refusing to look up incase they accidentally caught one of the students faces. So she let her fork dance around her plate, occasionally stabbing the odd piece of food, as she mumbled half-hearted responses to Bridget opposite.</p><p>Marella was desperate for a distraction, one that would steer her mind away from the burning stares that she could feel the kids jabbing at her, and although Bridget was attempting to coarse her into a conversation, she found herself disgruntled in that moment.</p><p>Yet the form of diversion the universe had decided to send her way was surprising — being in the shape of a slender Gryffindor, who found himself standing awkwardly behind her. It was an unexpected disruption, and it seemed to grab the attention of the students once more.</p><p>If it wasn't from the rupturing cough of Bridget, who then introduced him with an awkward smile, Marella may of never known he was towering behind her—"Er hey Remus, whats up?" Bridget asked as she sent an incognisant glance towards Marella, who's eyes had widened noticeably at the name.</p><p>"Can I speak to Marella?" he asked politely, though his tone was wobbly with nerves. It had been a year since they'd spoke, since they'd acknowledged each others presence, and he had no idea on how to approach the girl formerly known as his friend.</p><p>Marella flickered her head around, dumping the fork with a clatter. "You can."</p><p>"Er....can we go somewhere else?" he asked lowly, gesturing to the dozens of kids who didn't even bother to be discreet about their lurking, some even leaning forwards in hopes of catching the conversation between Remus and Marella; desperate to find another missing piece to the puzzle of Marella Bardot.</p><p>"Definitely." she sighed, legs slipping over the bench as she pulled herself up. Truthfully she was shocked to see his face, and although she didn't have the guts to let her eyes look towards the other marauders, she didn't mind him. So with a quick farewell to her Ravenclaw friend, who had now busied herself within the potions book she'd been decoding before dinner, Marella walked out of the main hall — with Remus Lupin trudging along her left side.</p><p>The pair couldn't go to the common rooms due to their clashing colours <b><em>(</em></b> though that had never really stopped either of them in the past <b><em>)</em></b> and they couldn't go to the library due to it being full to the brim of its capacity, so they settled for an isolated hallway. Marella was now situated against a stoned wall, the Lupin opposite her, and though she had her arms flung in a concealed manner against her chest, she wasn't displaying any sort of anger towards him. Because she wasn't angry at him, not anymore.</p><p>"I—" Remus thought over his words carefully for a moment before dropping the act, knowing that if he were in her situation, he'd want something genuine — not something that had been rehearsed. "I'm sorry Marella, honestly. I should've never taken part in that prank, and I never should've ignored you for so long or even let the rest of the marauders torment you. It was unfair on you, and i'm so guilty over it."</p><p>"Well you're a year late." she said after a moment, the words coming out quite firmly, and for a brief second, Remus thought that she might actually not forgive him. That their friendship was now too tarnished, too broken to be fixed, but then she let out a small smile. A simple gesture that relieved him immensely.</p><p>Marella knew the boy opposite her wasn't to blame, and though she had been angry at him for a long while, that agitation had long burned over — now just wishing for the boy she had read with back, the boy who had always brought her a cup of warm tea whenever they had potions together. It also didn't help that the nasty breakage of their friendship had caused Oscar <b><em>(</em></b> left with no other option <b><em>)</em></b> to <em>attempt</em> to get over Remus, and maybe if she forgave him, finally moved past the strong grudge that had took up her fourth year, things might go back to somewhat of an ordinary manner.</p><p>Though her forgiveness for the Lupin didn't change her feelings for the three other marauders, not one bit. And she could sternly say that wouldn't be dying out soon.</p><p>"I forgive you, Remus." she said genuinely, to which he let out a relieved sigh—"Oh thank merlin."</p><p>"But this doesn't change anything about the rest of your pack, okay? They're not getting away with this so easily." Marella then added sternly. The only reason that Remus had gotten off so easily was that she could tell he had a conscience on the actions that led them to the current situation.</p><p>"Noted." he grinned.</p><p>So with that, Marella pulled her resting body away from the support of the wall, her hands instinctively tucking into the pockets of her black denim jacket—"Cmon, you can walk me up to the Ravenclaw common room. But if someone tries to come and pry out information, we bolt, deal?" she said as their feet began to slowly shuffle in sync, her eyes trailing up to his as he let out a small chuckle accompanied with a nod.</p><p>The two of them used their short time together by catching up on the others life, both missing out vital pieces of information. If only the pair could realise that although their sufferings were different, their methods of coping with it were strikingly similar.</p><p>But it was the harmless words of the boy as they neared the blue common room that sent her into a sudden <b><em>(</em></b> but masked <b><em>)</em></b> jerk of panic. <em>What are you doing for christmas</em>? it echoed in the walls of her mind, because truly, she had no clue what she was doing.</p><p>Marella knew that she would be going to their new and '<em>improved' </em>manor —meaning it had been doused in many fire repellent spells— but she was unsure on what the agenda of the two week break was. She'd received no letters since arriving, though that hadn't came as much of a surprise to the girl, but was now beginning to grow with concern — due to her lack of knowing. She hated to be oblivious, left out in the dark, because Marella knew her time off school would be spent amongst other pure-blood prejudices, chatting <em>respectfully</em> as she tried to drown out their values. But she'd never been so clueless as to what would occur, and this worried her, more than she could ever let on.</p><p>The past week had been a discombobulated mess, and while she'd found herself in a darker place than she'd ever imagined, her mind had been somewhat distracted from what lay ahead. Now only a few days away, she would be set to leave Hogwarts for christmas.</p><p>The idea of home, or whatever twisted form of that word she had grown up with, terrified her. The girl would never make it known, but her parents, their views, her future all seemed to jolt her into a sudden state of panic. Even while she was away from them, hundred miles apart, she could still feel their hands clawing at her, twisting her into the shape of the daughter they longed to have — to them she was a project, a piece of pottery that they were currently moulding. There was no escaping, not even for her, and with that information she drowned out her thoughts on a potential future.</p><p>While she still carried the same blood as them, she was trapped. There was no possible way out of the turmoil her family had roped her into.</p><p> </p><p>𐐪𐑂</p><p> </p><p>—<b>AFTER WAVING OFF REMUS</b>, <br/>she found herself back in the slump of her dorm room, flipping through the pages of notes that Lily had given her. She was pleasantly shocked at the amount of detail the Evans had gone into, from the details inscribed with such precision, to the delineate sketches that accompanied them, Marella had understood the process of creating a strengthening solution much faster than she would of in class.</p><p>Once she had reviewed the information a few times over, she carefully slipped the notebook under her arm, making way towards the library in hopes of catching the Gryffindor there — it appeared that Lily chose to study there after class most days, and Marella just hoped she would of chosen that location today.</p><p>Lily had been completing her essay on the vanishing spell when she was greeted with the face of a familiar, who took the warm gesture of a smile as an opportunity to sit across from her. It seemed that the two were getting in a pattern of meeting eachother at the first-floor study destination, and neither of them minded the company.</p><p>"Sorry I hope i'm not intruding—" Marella began to say as she looked down at the paper the girl had been writing on, words sprawled out across it that the Ravenclaw already deemed to be accurate. But Lily cut her off before she could continue, politely putting down her pen as she spoke— "Don't be daft, you're not disturbing anything."</p><p>"Oh well.." Marella breathed out as she placed the spiral jotter onto the wooden table between them. "I just wanted to give you back this, thankyou Lily."</p><p>"It's no bother." Lily warmly reassured the girl as her fingers clasped onto the potions notes, shoving them next to her other discarded notebooks. Marella rolled her eyes playfully at the girls generosity, knowing that most people either wanted to avoid Marella <b><em>(</em></b> an idea she wasn't exactly opposed to <b><em>)</em></b> or suffocate her with their prying chatter, trying to gain any information on her that they possibly could—"Really, thankyou for lending me this. I don't think i've ever understood Potions more."</p><p>"No bother." the redhead shook her head.</p><p>Marella couldn't understand the discrimination, as she sat facing a muggle-born <b><em>(</em></b> or mudblood in her parents words <b><em>)</em></b> as she wasn't able to comprehend the reason why pure-blooded families had such strong beliefs that people like Lily were inferior, disgraces to witchcraft and wizardry. Because really, Lily Evans was the smartest person the Ravenclaw had ever met, and her <em>tainted</em> blood didn't seem to stop this.</p><p>Of course Marella had stopped relying on her parents beliefs atavistic to the current day, but some teachings could still be found inside her mind, hanging over her with persistent force. She supposed that was bound to happen, after all she had been taught a polluted version of what was right and what was wrong from such a young age. Even if she didn't want them inside her head, they still were there.</p><p>The girl only began to rebel after she bared witness to her parents abusing her eldest sister. For some this would drive them to stay in line, playing the role of the perfect daughter in fear that if they didn't, they'd suffer the same reaction. But Marella thought different, because maybe if she was worse than her sibling, maybe it would then force them to realise that she wasn't a misbehaving child. The Ravenclaw had done it to take the blow off her sister, turning her parents in the direction of the middle child and away from the eldest.</p><p>Marin had never thanked her for this, instead her eyes narrowed and she merely spat on her sisters traitorous behaviour. It was a low blow, one that shot against the girls heart, and made her rethink the purpose of being defiant. Though this thought process didn't last long, as Marella began to educate herself on the true credence of what her lineage believed in, she gradually began to agree with the words she had only said in order to create chaos.</p><p>That didn't mean she didn't love her parents —though no one would blame her if she didn't—because really she was still only a child, one that had been groomed from such a young age into the life of an obedient wife. She may disagree with their prejudice, but she couldn't disagree with the future they had planned for her, because she had been raised with this outcome — practically born for this purpose, like a sheep to the slaughter.</p><p>"What are these?" Marella asked hesitantly as her eyes panned towards a small clutter of books that had spluttered out of Lily's bag.</p><p>"These are some of my favourite muggle novels, i always carry them around with me incase I get bored." Lily explained, ushering for the Ravenclaw to have a closer look at them — but as Marella's fingers grazed over the covers, her curiosity only seemed to grow. "You can borrow one if you want? I've read them all a dozen times over."</p><p>"Really?" Marella looked up, it appeared she still wasn't used to people's kindness.</p><p>Once she heard the conformation from Lily, her hands flipped each book over — taking in the brief synopsis of them. She seemed to take a greater likening to one by the author of Jane Austen <b><em>(</em></b> pride and prejudice <b><em>)</em></b> to which Lily's head shot up—"Oh you must read that, it's a classic!" she grinned with enthusiasm.</p><p>"Okay I will." the girl chuckled in response as she slipped the rest of them back into her friends bag neatly, leaving out the turquoise-covered novel that Lily had been adamant about reading.</p><p>"I'm sorry if this comes off as obtrusive..." Lily began with caution, her hands fumbling with eachother as they rested on the table. "But do your family know that...."</p><p>"That Im friends with muggleborns?"</p><p>Lily Evans actually seemed taken back for a moment, already assuming that the girl would of used the offensive term, though she had been happy to be wrong for once. "Yeah, you appear pretty close with Oscar and Bridget."</p><p>"I am," Marella shrugged as she kicked her feet up on a chair that sat empty to the left of her. "but what my family doesn't know, won't kill them."</p><p>"Do you agree with their views?"</p><p>"At one point I think i might've, though it was only because i'd been told that's what was right. It took me forming my own opinion, before I could understand that muggles aren't as disgusting as pure-bloods make them out to be. That and people with magic who are born from them aren't inferior, <em>at all.</em>"</p><p>"So why do you stay there? With them?"</p><p>The question hung heavy on Marella's chest, and it took a few moments for her to even register it completely. "Because there's a part of me that still loves them, I suppose."</p><p>"Have they ever...hurt you?" the words came out quieter than Lily's previous dialogue had been.</p><p>A couple months ago Marella would've abruptly left, maybe convinced the redhead that had never happened — but now she was so exhausted of keeping it a secret, and suddenly she had the urge to speak out about what she'd endured at their hands. So although she was standing now, ready to sprint out the room and never speak to the girl again, she found a spark of confidence grow inside the pits of her empty stomach. She knew Lily would never say anything, she could trust her, so with that a slight piece of the Bardot's shield broke off, her walls now slightly thinner. "Yes." her voice came out weak, cracking slightly with pain.</p><p>"...badly?"</p><p>This time she couldn't find the power to respond, merely nodding her head, to which Lily stood up, slowly moving over towards her. Marella was unsure what she may do, she wasn't used to affection, and this was all fairly new to her — but the Gryffindor only pulled her into a tight embrace. At first, she had stiffened before gradually melting into it, her own arms clasping around the warm body against her.</p><p>"I'm sorry." Lily whispered into the girls ear, to which she shook her head slightly—"We all have our own shit."</p><p>"You don't deserve that." she muttered back in reply.</p><p>And suddenly, Marella Bardot could see everything slightly clearer — maybe she did deserve more. Maybe she did deserve a future, a career, love. Maybe she could break free from the chains that had held her in place since she'd entered this world, <em>maybe</em>.</p><p>    It was like her mind was constantly shifting back and forth, and Marella was left questioning everything.</p><p>It appeared that her future was cloudy with uncertainty, and Marella Bardot was utterly clueless on what lay ahead.</p><p> </p><p>𐐪𐑂</p><p> </p><p>—<b>SIRIUS BLACK COULD TASTE </b><br/>the smoke on his bruised lips as he leant over the astronomy tower, cigarette intertwined between his index and middle finger. The brittle wind of the cold night pushed against his face in hopes that it would chill him into returning to the castle, but he liked it. The weathering scent of tobacco mixed with mint was carried by this wind, slowly creeping into his hair and clothes — both which he then noted to wash once inside. But right now he was far too distracted with his surroundings to care.</p><p>He had been crying, tears of despair, of isolation. But mostly because of Regulus. Really he was the main reason why, and although the boy hated to admit it, there was a guilt for leaving his sibling behind — and it was slowly eating him alive.</p><p>Marella Bardot had just left the library, spiral notebook replaced with a Jane Austen book as she carried herself towards the Astronomy Tower — making little effort to not be seen, though she still appeared to slip under the radar of the patrolling prefects and Filch. She found comfort in the nights air, and it helped that Astronomy class had been cancelled due to the weather, making the empty spot perfect for some late night reading.</p><p>But as she reached her destination, she wasn't greeted with barrenness, but the figure of another student. Just as her mind pieced together who it was, just as she realised she was sharing the space with Sirius Black, it was too late. Just as she had spotted him, he had spotted her.</p><p>They may of been surrounded by a vast amount of fresh air, but in that moment, Marella Bardot was suffocating — claustrophobic as if she had been forced into a small space with the Black. "I'll go." she then said through the silence, back ready to turn, before she heard him respond.</p><p>"No, I will." he said with monotone, though Marella was too startled to even pick up what he said, catching a glimpse of his face. He had been leaning against the railing, menthol cigarette in his clutch as his growing hair blew against his neck from the strong winds. But as he turned around, her assumption on him only going out for a nighttime smoke had been very wrong. His eyes were bloodshot red, purple bags hanging underneath them in a swollen manner — he'd been crying.</p><p>He made his way past her, a large space casted between the pair, but before he could leave, the girl spoke again—"Are you okay?"</p><p>Sirius let out a scoff at that, head panning to face her quickly, "Why do you suddenly care now, thought you hated me?"</p><p>She let out a sigh, shunning herself for thinking that he'd actually speak to her nicely. "I'm not in any mood for this tonight, I just wanted to know if you were okay."</p><p>"Do I look it?" he said with agitation as he stepped in closer, their faces only a few centimetres apart. "Does it fucking look like im okay?" he asked again, more force in his tone now.</p><p>"What happened?" was all Marella could mutter out, stunned at the sudden closeness between the two. She could feel his ashy breath on her lips, his stormy eyes locked on hers with intensity.</p><p>"Why would you ever think i'd tell you." he bit back, in that moment he was so vulnerable, so like Marella had been come Monday night. She wanted to take her hand out, to press it up against his cold cheek, to cup his face in her palm — but she didn't....Instead she let out a loose shrug, "I'm not sure really."</p><p>"What are you doing Marella?" he spoke again, though there wasn't any rage in his voice now, just the crumbling voice of a broken teenager. "Why are you trying to comfort me?"</p><p>"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, i'm not offering you my shoulder to cry on, i'm just saying...if you want to talk to someone, i'm here."</p><p>"Why?" his voice came out as a whimper now, all of his effort being used to keep the tears inside his sockets.</p><p>"Because if it were the other way around, no matter what had happened in the past, i'd hope you'd do the same for me."<br/>▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃</p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0013"><h2>13. darling, dearest, dead</h2></a>
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</p><p><em>circa; 5th January, 1975.</em><br/><em>(fourth year, Hogwarts Express.)</em><br/>    —<b>IT WAS FAIRLY EARLY</b>, <br/>far too premature in the morning to be awake — though Marella didn't have a choice on this matter, for this was the time she was expected to be up to catch the Hogwarts Express. As she brushed through the crowds of families, the nostalgia of the previous year seemed to wash over her. Yet it hadn't been in a calming way —as she had of hoped— but like an acrid wave, suffocating her with its coldness. After the preceding year, she had lost all hope of Hogwarts becoming her home, now faced with the harshness of a forced reputation; one that she hadn't planned on receiving, but couldn't avoid <b><em>(</em></b> well at least not any longer <b><em>)</em></b>. Marella would have to face it one way or another — because Hogwarts made it entirely impossible to escape her tarnished name.</p><p>    Marella's windswept hair had once sat in a tight plait, a hairstyle her elves had worked on for hours — though it was less of that now, loose strands seeming to dangle out of place. The January winds that infused the air had destroyed the braid before it could be seen, but Marella appeared to like it better now. It was wild, free from the grasps of metal clips — and Marella knew that if she was going to be entrapped soon enough, she could atleast let her hair relax while it was given the option.</p><p>    She had taken a seat on the train <b><em>( </em></b>which was yet to move <b><em>) </em></b>in an isolated cart, awaiting for her friends to join her. Oscar and Bridget had been on her mind all winter, and now the only thing she wished was to sit amongst them and talk about something monotone. Although the place she had stepped afoot in come christmas was new, the scenery was just as it had always been. From the suave balls she was obligated to attend, to the cruelness of a slap against her cheek whenever she said a word out of line, it showed that some things never change.</p><p>    This particular December had been worse than she'd expected, and due to both of her sisters newfound interest in everything Marella detested, she'd suddenly became everyones target <b><em>( </em></b>including Kaia<em> to some extent </em><b><em>)</em></b>. Her flesh was pale with the lack of light she'd had — skin sensitive to touch as bruises knitted into it with force — though no one around her would notice this, for they were hidden behind the concealment of a long-sleeved top. Most of these wounds were still fresh, only erupting within the last few days — this was due to an idea her parents had came up with, one that was meant to silence their rebellious daughter. They'd wanted their prejudice values to stick into her head <b><em>( </em></b>with fear that she would end up like Sirius Black otherwise <b><em>) </em></b>so they'd decided to hold off on their abuse for a short while. That was until the last days before her departure, where they seemed to become very persuasive.</p><p>    Now all she wanted was a moment alone, one that wouldn't be disturbed by her parents screeching, or her sisters constant tormenting. But she wasnt about to get what she initially wanted, because just as she pushed the harrowing thoughts of her Christmas out of her head, she was disturbed. Her eyes hardly had time so scan the page before her, to emerge in the fictional storyline, before she was forced to twist her head in the direction of the door. The disruption had caused enough irritation by itself, but as she took in the faces of the people before her, the tension her face displayed only grew.</p><p>   Marella didn't know why they were there, standing before her eyesight with their sickening faces — the four marauders. Marella had chosen a compartment with precision, so their presence opposite her was highly unexpected — this was due to her cart being situated in a complete different area to the marauders usual spot. "Flamer." James then spat through the silence, any ounce of happiness that had been on his face was now switched with detestation.</p><p>Nothing could erase how that name made her feel, whether she shouted it into the mirror for hours on end, or scribbled it down on parchment repeatedly, it still stuck in her mind — staining her head. She couldn't understand it; why one word could make her feel so vulnerable, <em>so weak.</em> So she merely swallowed, her body flinching on the inside, while appearing to stay completely still on the outside. "Its getting a bit old now, isn't it Potter? You should think of a new nickname, flamer is a bit pathetic." she snarled at him, her icy eyes piercing against his — now taking over with an unfaltering need to see him wince. Just as he had caused her to do internally.</p><p>Yet their threatening glare on one another was abruptly broken, a voice answering for James. This caused Marella to divert her eyes away from the Potter, moving onto the next boy who'd found the guts to disturb her. She should have known as her pupils navigated for voice that it could only be Sirius Black, for he always had something to say. He had just snarled at her— "I think you're mistaken, <em>flamer</em>, didn't you lock yourself away because of that name? I'd say it affected you more than you'd like to let on."</p><p>The four had changed remarkably over December, with Sirius' thickening hair now reaching his neck <b><em>(</em></b> creating a shaggy look that merged well with his facial shape <b><em>)</em></b>, and James now taken to wearing circular glasses <b><em>(</em></b> though they appeared everywhere but over his eyes <b><em>)</em></b>. Remus was similar to how he had been before break, though he was showing more signs of tiredness, that was alongside the scratches that'd taken up his neck with sustainable force. And while Peter had always been timid compared to the other three, he was carrying himself with an ounce of confidence now.</p><p>"And I'd say you're a complete dick." she muttered back with lack of effort, wanting them off her back so she could continue her reading in peace. Though the long-haired boy facing her had opposing ideas. He pressed his hands up against his chest, letting out a dramatic gasp before shaking his head— "<em>Now now</em>, no need to get so worked up. Am I getting under your skin flamer?" he teased, his head bending slightly as he waited for a reaction.</p><p>Marella let out a disheartening laugh at that, his comment appearing quite humorous to her. "Please, Filch would get under my skin before you." she said before raising an eyebrow, "In both ways."</p><p>"Now that is a sight I'd like to see." he grinned smugly, though their eyecontact was then sliced by Marella as she turned to the other boys, bored of the conversation—"You should stop annoying me and go find a compartment, make better use of your time."</p><p>James let out a huff before pushing his body completely into the cart, "I think this one will do just fine." he said as he beckoned the remaining marauders to join him. But before they could even take a step afoot, Marella had flung herself up, book now shut with adamant force—"When are you four going to get a hobby? Obsessing over me is getting a bit stalkery now."</p><p>"Awe, you're not going to stay?" Sirius said with a faux frown, to which the Ravenclaw merely shoved her shoulder against his own one as she exited, making sure that they heard the snarky comment she ended their conversation with— "I'd rather choke on my own vomit than look at your faces for another moment, <em>especially yours Black.</em>"</p><p>His hands had clenched into fists as she moved away from his eyeview, leaving behind a scent of pristine perfume and the air thick with her previous words — hanging amongst the boys. "I fucking hate her." he then breathed out as he took a seat next to James.</p><p>Remus and Peter had been sending eachother glances of concernment while the other two were busy tormenting Marella, both of their mouths staying shut while she was there. They were only honouring her wishes of space, though they couldn't say the same for James and Sirius, who had decided to do the opposite of what she'd asked. But now the Lupin subtly rolled his eyes as he slipped into a space fronting the pair, "I would've never known." he spoke up with sarcasm, for he had heard Sirius ramble on about Marella for months on end, if anyone was getting under the others skin — it was Marella getting beneath his.</p><p>"You did start this one padfoot." Peter then sighed as he joined his friends, hands already fumbling over the wrapper of a chocolate bar <b><em>( </em></b>the only thing he had been looking forward to during the journey <b><em>)</em></b>. What Peter had meant by this comment was that they'd just searched the train, observing each window that laced the aisles until they came across the one that specifically had the Ravenclaw in it. Sirius had been eager to see her face since the end of school, commenting on how he wished to agitate her immensely.</p><p>"She started everything when she wouldn't forgive us for that petty prank." James came to his best friends defence, his attention being occupied with a magazine he had taken out of his coats pockets — one that was plastered with  quidditch players among its front cover. "So really, this is her fault."</p><p>"Did you not start it..when you actually did the prank?" Remus spoke slowly, his eyebrows creasing out of confusement. If anyone was to blame for their current relationship with the Bardot, it was the marauders — but only Peter and him had seemed to acknowledge this. The other two were struck with arrogance, and thus  couldn't see past their own viewpoint, a trait that had frustrated Remus for years. He may of loved his friends ardently for everything they'd done, but he found himself within a pit of frustration every so often due to their antics — he didn't want any conflict, though while he sat with the marauders that seemed impossible.</p><p>"Dont be silly, moony, we do stuff like that all the time. If she wanted to be friends with us, she should've expected it. So like James said, if anyones to blame its one hundred percent her." he said light-heartedly before changing the subject, not appreciating his friends judgement on his actions.</p><p>Sirius Black was yet to understand the doltish stunts affect on her, and as of that moment in time, he was far too overwhelmed with his own issues to really contemplate hers. The end of nineteen seventy-five had held a significant memory for him, as it had been the year he finally escaped the Black household. Packing up his belongings the eve before Christmas, he had finally walked away from his family of destruction. The boy was sure by now his face had been burned from the wall, and he was no longer considered the son of Walburga and Orion — or as a matter of fact, a Black at all.</p><p>He had done what Marella could not, finally cutting himself from the strings of his parents, and was now free to do as he wished. The Ravenclaw could not say the same, for she was still amongst her abusers, afraid of leaving as she continued to clasp onto the weak memories she shared with her parents, while using the excuse of staying for her sister. But that didn't matter now, Kaia was slowly transforming into the stern pure-blood her family had always wanted. Soon every crack of the carefree girl Marella had watched grow up would be gone, the darkness of their society consuming her.</p><p>Maybe if Kaia hadn't been placed in Slytherin Marella wouldn't have lost her, but then again, who was to say she was gone at all? </p><p> </p><p>𐐪𐑂<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p><em>circa; December 18th 1975.</em><br/><em>(fifth year, the astronomy tower.)</em><br/>   —<b>"BECAUSE IF IT WERE </b><br/>the other way around, no matter what had happened in the past, i'd hope you'd do the same for me." Marella muttered, her eyes pushing onto his with an undeniable force.</p><p>    Sirius' eyes widened, and for a small second; one minor tick on the clock, he thought. His mind was working tirelessly now, but not on Regulus, but the tired brunette opposite him. Her hair was in a loose bun, wand holding it together, while she didn't bother to tidy away the strands that had managed to escape. There was concealer on her face, but it was starting to wash away, slowly sinking into her skin from being worn all day. With the makeups failed attempt at shielding her true flesh, he could see the outlines of the scars that laced her face. Sirius had only seen these once, being the night she set Snapes' hair on fire and he actually liked them on her, they didn't take away from her obvious beauty, but it went further than that. Behind the mask of concealment, he was starting to see cracks of a vulnerable girl. She wasn't some brain-dead elitist that he'd assumed she'd turned into, just someone hiding behind that status.</p><p>    Marella had never said anything prejudice, nor share one belief with her family, but the boy had assumed she was one of them. Her body flaunted down the corridors like one, so emotionless and cruel — bitter to look at. He couldn't deny that she was attractive, but when she acted like another elitist he could only recoil. Though what had really drawn her into him <b><em>( </em></b>something he wasn't ready to admit it yet <b><em>) </em></b>was a brief murmur of time when she had been carefree — drunk on fire whiskey the night everything blew up.</p><p>    That was when she was truly living, and he desperately wanted to see more of that girl — and for a second, he thought he could bring that back out of her again, light the spark that had once burned so vividly, before remembering who exactly was staring right at him.</p><p>    <em>Flamer</em>.</p><p>    "I can't trust you." he finally responded, the fury now returning to his tone — it was if he had just dipped his tongue back in the venom that was dying out. Marella wanted to persist, to demand he open up to her, but that would be selfish. She couldn't decide whom he talked to. So she responded with numbness, "And who's fault is that?"</p><p>    His jaw tensed with agitation, eyes piercing on hers — emptiness staring at emptiness — the ghosts of two people facing eachother while the world around them continued to run, yet that didn't matter to them. "Mine, probably. Everything always seems to be my fault." he sneered.</p><p>    "Don't do that." Marella snapped, "Don't make yourself the victim here, what happened to me <em>is</em> partially your fault. But not everything is, and you know that."</p><p>    "Oh, that's ironic." he let out a cold laugh, it appeared that the two were no longer talking about why he'd been crying, the conversation shifting to the topic that had led them to this moment; the prank, the names, the trauma, the bickering. "You hold me and the other marauders accountable for what happened, but not Remus. Why Marella?" he asked, though he gave her no time to respond before he was spiralling again — digging deeper into the darkness that was beginning to consume him. "I see the way you look at me, you're repulsed. Marella Bardot you are just like your family."</p><p>    Those words stung so absymally that she wanted to collapse right there on the floor, Sirius Black knew where to hit her, and right now he'd aimed for the gut. Ruthless and out of control, he continued. If Marella thought that would be the harshest thing to come from his mouth, she was so very wrong. "Now I know it's not because i'm a blood traitor, so don't tell me it's because of that stupid joke you spent all year <em>sad</em> about?"</p><p>    "Sad?" she sneered, her hands instinctively lurching against his chest, palm making contact with skin as she forcefully pushed him away from her. "Sad." she repeated once more, eyes flashing with anger, red pounding her mind. "Are you fucking thick? Did you not hear what I said during the game on Monday? Wherever I look I see the flames of that night. Wherever I go i'm reminded of the burning heat that latched onto my face as the fire blazed, <em>the fire I caused</em>." she paused for a moment, catching her short breath before continuing. She didn't care how demeaning this was for her, she had been caught in his spiral and now she was letting words seep out carelessly.</p><p>    Marella had once thought that everything she buried inside of her would never resurface, but she had been naive, all it took was one person pressing the right buttons for it to come tumbling out. And the boy before her had managed to do that.</p><p>"But that's not the worst thing, <em>no</em> maybe I could've forgiven you, it's what you did after. You apologised, but it wasn't real...it wasn't genuine. You only said it because I hadn't gone along with your sickening prank, because I had actually held you accountable for your actions. I told you to give me some space and instead you turned cold towards me. I loved you, I love all fucking four of you and you turned your backs on me. Did you know how that felt? Sirius I had no one, I hardly knew Bridget and Oscar at the time, my sister was slipping away from me with every day, and my parents." she let out a deep exhale, her mouth sore to talk — yet she wasn't finished, so although her voice was coarse now, she continued. "I was welcomed home at the end of the fourth year with a bruise to my left cheek, and you want to know what I did? I let out a sigh of relief, because that was nothing compared to what they've done to me before. I wasn't fucking sad Sirius, <em>you broke me</em>."</p><p>Those last three words didn't leave the air after they'd slipped from her lips, lingering around the pair. Both Marella and Sirius knew that they wouldn't be forgotten about anytime soon, now engraved into both of their minds.</p><p>    And with that, she wanted to run, bolt from the scene as the tears strummed down her face with intense force, burning against her cold flesh. But she couldn't, frozen in place, body shaking ferociously. She kept her eyes on the ground, afraid to see his face — to see his reaction.</p><p>"Marella," he let out softly, watching as the girl he'd hated for months break down infront of him, her tears washing down her face — wiping away the remainders of her makeup and the last glimpse of the mask she had so delicately painted over her true form. "Look at me." he then said adamantly, though his tone stayed low and gentle. But she was still locked in place, motionless, so he pressed his hand up against her cheek — thumb resting on chin as he guided her head up towards him manually.</p><p>    His hand was soft against her skin, fingers grazing slightly against the scars that dinted her face — she was cold, not the type that sends a chill down your spine, but the type that was so glacial that you could physically feel it inside of you. Sirius had always been one to have icy hands, but up against her cheek, they proved to be warm. A rose blush had now tinged her face, maybe from the sudden contact of the boy before her, or from the fact that the weather was frosty, but either way — the aftermath of the storm had left behind a piercing wind that was coercing the pair inside.</p><p> </p><p>𐐪𐑂<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>    —<b>MARELLA BARDOT WAS TIRED</b>. That was it, for no fancy words or phrases could describe how she felt better than that four worded sentence. She wanted to lock herself behind closed doors and shut her eyes, to close them with no means of ever opening them again . To finally succumb herself to the darkness she'd tried so hard to fight, that she had went up against for years; because really, it would be easier that way.</p><p>    But she didn't, she kept fighting. Marella wasn't sure what it was that had stopped her so many times from ending it: maybe the friends she had made amongst the darkness, or the fact that her future could be an actual possibility — but nevertheless, she was still there, breathing.</p><p>    "I'm sorry." she murmured to him, her lips slightly parted as she looked up with genuine guilt. She hadn't planned for the roles to switch so abruptly; she'd wanted to comfort him, and yet, here he was standing in the place she assumed she would be, his hand touching her cheek as she had wanted to do to his, his words easing her into calmness rather than her mouth doing the talking. </p><p> </p><p>𐐪𐑂<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>    —<b>THEY DIDN'T SAY ANYTHING </b><br/>else, <em>no</em> they just stood there absorbing each others company, together but so far apart. No one had to utter a word to know they were as broken as each other, just one look in their distant eyes could inform you on how they truly were holding up. One was battling with the liability of leaving their sibling behind, while the other was battling with the decision on whether they should leave their own sibling behind.</p><p>    Marella held a similarity to each of the marauders, for the way she would bottle up her trauma was alike Remus Lupin, and the unfeasible love she had for the ones close to her was so similar to the way James Potter acted. With Peter Pettigrew it was the constant clash she had with bravery, debating whether she should pack her bags and leave the home she wasn't welcome in. But with Sirius Black, this was whom she shared the most with, analogous to one another in depths they had yet to discover. They had spent all year resenting eachother, when really, no one could understand them the way they could one another.</p><p>    She was unsure how everything would play out now — she didn't know if the boy who's finger was grazing against her flesh, brushing away every tear that poured out from her eye would still send her threatening looks in the hallway after this. She didn't know if he would continue to torment her with every opportunity that arose, or if her name would be merely discarded from his lips.</p><p>    This small interaction, in a swarm of them, changed everything while also changing nothing. They were still strangers, yet to know each other in a deeper manner, but had shared a moment of nonverbal communication that neither had ever encountered with another before.</p><p>    Sirius was just as unsure on what this meant for them as she was, he was starting to recognise on how partisan he had been to his own viewpoint — refusing to acknowledge hers before now. But did she want everything to go back to how it was only a few hours prior, for she had every right to hate him, and he wasnt expecting that to suddenly die out.</p><p>    And then he began to question himself; did he want everything to back to how it was? Because if he wasn't able to agitate her in every way possible, he'd have no excuse to talk with her. Sirius was beginning to realise that he had never resented Marella Bardot, rather used that as an excuse to see her face, but then again, he wasnt so sure why he wanted to see her face.</p><p>    The Gryffindor was a fool, and while he was only starting to realise why he'd acted as he did, that didn't change who he was. For you could use a spear as a walking stick, but that didn't change its true nature.</p><p>The pair only left when the weather was too forcible to ignore, too cold to continue standing amongst, and even then, they didn't speak. Not a word was uttered between them, both splitting off to go back to their corresponding dorms. Both apprehensive on what this meant for them now, or if it meant anything at all. <br/>▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃</p>
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<a name="section0014"><h2>14. 'tis the fucking season</h2></a>
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</p><p><b>—MARELLA'S BODY DIDN'T WANT </b><br/>to awake. Her limbs were groggy with the effect of a late night, and her pupils were doused with tiredness . She'd only drifted into sleep an hour prior to the current time, and as she attempted to pull herself out of bed in order to get ready, the thin air pushed her back into the comfort of her duvet. She knew that the fatigued state she'd been succumbed to was only her own fault — this was due to a certain Black she'd let cloud her mind for an extended period of time. The vivid reminder of their encounter left her awake until the early hours of the morning, only passing out when her mind could no longer persist. But besides from the initial weariness of last night, she knew that once her feet hit the floor, she was going to have to face the day ahead of her — something she wasn't looking forward to.</p><p>Her bloodshot eyes stared up at the ceiling, utterly confused. She and Sirius had opened up their own twisted version of pandora's box, its contents bearing the unresolved feelings they had for one another <b><em>( </em></b>some being civil, some being bad, some....<em>undefined</em> <b><em>)</em></b>. Now they hung in the air, invisible to see, yet creating a static tension between the pair.</p><p>    Marella didn't allow her mind to delve any  deeper, with far too much on her mind, she narrowed her eyes at the blank wall above — coming up with the abrupt conclusion to ignore him. The long-haired Gryffindor had been sentenced to the isolated part of her brain, or in simpler terms, put in time out. She supposed one would think this was cruel on her part, but it was only till she was given a better understanding on how he wished to act towards her moving forwards.</p><p>    So with a droopy sigh, she startled her limbs into awareness, sprung into a lousy attempt of action as her body climbed out of bed. Marella was tired, that was for certain, but she couldn't afford another absent day — so she swallowed hard, clothes now in hand as she began to trudge towards the showers.</p><p>Rivulets thrashed against Marella's skin, her cold body being met with the scorch of hot water; skin thus recoiling. The pressure of the shower seeped against her wounds with adamant force, to which she let out a shudder in response. And as the water continued to beat down, she could feel each of her scars, stinging like a nettle would as it made contact with flesh. The severe pain had caused her lips to permit a series of muffled whimpers, the sensation of shockwaves against her body overcoming Marella.</p><p>    She'd grown accustomed to blocking the pain out, but as the wounds across her body attempted to heal, they appeared with want to let out a final cry. Maybe it was the exhaustion that caused her body to turn frail, or the the coldness she was now experiencing, but either way, Marella could only remember a soreness like this when she'd taken a shower the night after her flesh was carved.</p><p>Some of these wounds had let out a heavy flow of blood, seeping down her skin in trickles. Marella thus found herself staring down at the pool of water  — though her eyesight didn't pick up on being it's usual clear colour but stained currant red.</p><p>It'd been usual for Marella to find herself seeing blood, though it had came out in large heaps this time, which was far more than she'd ever experienced. At this, Marella supposed she should be worried, that the sight of the colour dripping down her bare legs should provoke some reaction, but Marella only felt numbness. <em>She</em> should care, <em>she</em> wanted to care, but she simply couldn't.</p><p>The cold air wafted against her skin as she finally stepped out the shower, though the girl didn't notice, this was for the overwhelming welts still pressing pain into her flesh. She wondered when this would stop, when the pain would become bearable, before realising — while under her parents influence, it would never stop. Like a repeating cycle, Marella was spinning in circles, and her parents were the ones twisting her.</p><p>Kaia had once suffered the backlash of Cascade and Arroyo's anger, when Marella was  out of the manor their fury only retaliated against the next child in their eyesight. The whiplash she experienced at their callous hands being something she planned to keep hidden, but the bruise that developed around her face spoke for her. It was kissed blue and yellow, Marella could remember, and lined Kaia's cheek noticeably.</p><p>Kaia was naive, only being eleven, and had mistaken their abuse for love — believing it'd been some darkened form of affection. And overtime she began to fault herself for what occurred, when it hadn't been anyone's blame but their parents. It's hard for a child to understand that, they take in their mother and fathers words like a drug, hanging onto everything they say religiously.</p><p>Marella shook off this memory, pulling on a halter bra which was accompanied with a loose shirt <b><em>( </em></b>buttons being left open near the top <b><em>) </em></b>and a vintage skirt which hung near her lower thighs. She knew that her own version of the uniform wasn't meeting dress code, but then again, Marella never had been one to follow authority figures. It was only after she'd slipped on her scuffed jacket did she notice her complexion in the fogged up mirror before her.</p><p>The girl struggled to see herself as she stared on, tired eyes being met with a stranger. Her face was covered in concealer, casting the unnatural details she had into nudeness. Marella's finger trailed over the gash near her chin, caressing it softly as she replicated the same movement the hand last night had done to her — if she closed her eyes, she could still feel the warmth. When the makeup finally washed away, when she assumed he would draw back in disgust, that's when he looked at her deeper then he'd ever before. He wasn't disgusted by her punctured flesh, <em>no not at all.</em></p><p>    Marella blinked, "Why the fuck am I thinking about Sirius Black again?" her inner voice spoke to her as she wiped away the condensation on the mirror.</p><p>The Ravenclaw found herself curious to see the image below the cosmetics, so she erased the disguise, water hitting her cheeks repeatedly until all signs of a mask were gone. She was unsure why she had spent so long hiding this part of herself, because really, the scars lacing her face were something she should be proud of. She'd suffered through each and everyone one of them, and made it out alive. <em>Barely</em>, but she was still there — and that's what counted.</p><p>    Marella had only displayed these once, being the night she set Snapes' hair on fire. Maybe they would've made a few more appearances if it hadn't been for the marauders stunt, the stunt she and every other student could remember well. But she was done with <em>that</em> holding her back, whether Sirius was to continue tormenting her or not, these were the last few years of her life where she would have freedom, and she wasn't going to waste it away. Not anymore, not any longer. </p><p> </p><p>𐐪𐑂<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>    —<b>SO WITH THAT SHE</b><br/>discarded the bathroom at once, doc martens carrying her towards the main hall for breakfast — now only wishing to see the exhausted faces of her two friends. Marella's body wanted to slump as she walked, to rest its tired limbs, but she blankly refused. If she was to walk into the hall lowly she would be perceived as vulnerable, so she held her head high, for people preyed on those who lacked confidence — and she wasn't going to become a target of another scheme.</p><p>Marella knew that if she were to present herself with a careless attitude, unbothered by the stares of her roughed up face, students wouldn't have anything to hold against her. So she pushed her way through the hall, discarding the usual glares from the children around her — who were now taking in Marella with sudden interest, eyes fluctuating up and down her face with intrigue.</p><p>"<em>Oi</em> padfoot!" James said with a burst of enthusiasm, his elbow digging into his friends side as he attempted to jolt Sirius into awareness. To this, Sirius let out a groan, his head slumping into his hands while he focused on keeping his eyes somewhat open. It appeared Marella hadn't been the only one who was up all night, and the thoughts that kept him awake seemed to be remarkably similar to hers. James shook his head, hands instinctively pushing the frames of his glasses up as he continued with his sentence—"Have you seen flamer today?"</p><p>It appeared everyone had seen Marella that day, everyone besides Sirius Black, who had been too focused on keeping himself awake — it was either that or the awkward air seeming to surround the pair, forcing him to lock his eyes in every direction that wasn't blue. They hadn't shared an interaction since the prior night, but Sirius could feel a thickening tension hang over him, and as Marella took a seat amongst Ravenclaws she began to feel a similar sensation.</p><p>Now Sirius' eyes were burning on her, trying to search for the definition of his friends statement. He wished she would just turn around, though her head stayed firmly on the Ravenclaw table. That was until the 'universe' created a distraction, working in the Black's favour immensely , because just as he thought about discarding his glance away from her — Marella turned.</p><p>If it hadn't been for the loud eruption near the Black, he may of never caught her that day, but it seemed fate had bigger plans for the two. From the clumsy hands of one Peter Pettigrew, the whole plate of pancakes came crashing down before him, causing every student within the hall to turn — one of them being the girl he was just hoping to see.</p><p>Yet he wasn't graced with the usual complexion he'd grown to expect, but a fairly new one. He'd  seen her like this the prior night, <em>well</em> to be more precise.. he'd seen the scars now visible on her face. But in the lighter room, these wounds appeared to be more noticeable, <em>strikingly</em> noticeable infact. They begun near her eyebrows, streaming down the rest of her structure with mess — banding together in some places, while standing lone in other areas. The worst were the ones stained violet, though Sirius knew they'd become devoid of any colour soon, only leaving behind a small mark in remembrance. Yet there was something about the permanent ones, scratches dinted into her skin with fury, something that made his instinctive natures take over. Because he could imagine her parents scratching their nails into her soft flesh, all while she stood there in pain. He could imagine it so clearly, and he hated it.</p><p>Walburga and Orion Black were walking darkness, pure evil in the shape of two slender figures, but they'd never laid a hand on either of their sons. <em>No</em>, they much preferred the method of verbal abuse, which all of their children had been subjected to at one point, but Sirius felt undeniably guilty towards Marella — he had run away whilst suffering less, and if anyone deserved to escape, it was her <em>not him.</em></p><p>Then Regulus crept back into his mind, clouding his mind with thoughts of the scraggy-haired brother he'd abandoned; <em>left behind</em>, now isolated amongst the likes of pure-blooded supremacists. He knew deep down  his brother didn't want to end up like them, that underneath his layers of personality he wasn't alike the other carriers of their blood, but he was too strung on his parents support to leave. Regulus had always been desperate to please their parents, because to a little kid, nothing matters more than their parents validation. And Regulus was drunk on this love, this false sense of proudness they displayed while manipulating him.</p><p>Sirius was lucky, far luckier than most are, because he'd found new brothers amongst Gryffindor. They weren't the type to throw him under the bus whenever something went sideways, but ones that supported him throughout anything. But Regulus hadn't shared this same luck, cast to Slytherin like the rest of his lineage, he'd been forced into the lifestyle their parents demanded he have. Maybe before rumours broke the air, whispers of a certain dark lord, he would've been only forced into an arranged marriage and a ministry job. But the stakes were higher, now he was destined to be something worse — something plagued with darkness.</p><p>By the time Regulus Black would leave Hogwarts, he'd be a death eater. There was no speculation, no discussions on the subject, because it'd been set in stone. Infact, it was presumed of him — being a carrier of the tarnished Black name did that. Soon, among the rest of his ancestry, he would no longer be the carefree little boy Sirius had grown up alongside — but a malevolent monster with staining blood on his hands. </p><p> </p><p>𐐪𐑂<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>—<b>MARELLA KNEW OF THIS</b>, <br/>as did anyone else with ears. But with the information of Regulus being linked to dark arts, she began to speculate. It hadn't been intentional, but suddenly her mind was whirling out of control, creating scenario after scenario, assumption after assumption. And soon her mind stumbled upon a singular thought, one that hit her face like acidic water, engulfing her in the toxic truth she'd yet to accept.</p><p>If Regulus was going to be a death eater, then so was Kaia. And if so, her older sister, Marin, was already one.</p><p>    "I swear he has butterfingers." Oscar moaned into his cup of coffee, the affects of the early morning taking a toll on him already. Bridget let out a scoff at Peter, irritation dashed amongst her face—"If he makes another loud noise, i'm going to march over there and hex the living shit out of him."</p><p>    Marella diverted her eyes away from Pettigrew, who had now taken to picking up the dirty pancakes — face too smug for a boy who had just dropped food. She merely let out a hum of agreement, before she was within her own world again, and even the raucous noise of students couldn't distract the girl from her thoughts this morning.</p><p>    Oscar shot Bridget a concerned glance as he lifted his head from the blackening drink before him, turning towards Marella — now dazing off. "You okay Mars?" he asked softly. At mention of her name, the girl perked up—"Uh yeah, i'm fine." she said with discombobulation, not completely present in the conversation unfolding before her. It was a phrase she had found herself using often, and from the looks of her two friends faces, they hadn't bought her lousy attempt at answering the boys question.</p><p>    "Is this about going home for christmas?" Bridget asked bluntly before realising how she'd came off, her voice dulling down as she offered out words of comfort in response. "Because we're always here if you want to talk about it, or really <em>anything</em> that's on your mind."</p><p>    Bridget and Oscar had been aware of what occurred behind the walls of the manor for some time now <b><em>(</em></b> give or take a year <b><em>)</em></b>, and whilst she had attempted to keep it a secret till the day she was zipped in a body bag, it only took one accidental reveal of her lower skin to all come spilling out.</p><p>    It hadn't been easy, infact the discussion had been left with a blunt <em>my family arent nice people </em>for a drawn out period of time. That was until she received a howler in the mail, unable to remember exactly why she had gotten it now <b><em>(</em></b> possibly for the detentions she had accumulated, or the abject scores she received in multiple exams <b><em>)</em></b>. But while she focused on dashing out of the hall before it could erupt in a loud yell, she hadn't noticed the two students who'd chased after her. Who then heard the contents of the letter — to her dismay.</p><p>    So Marella was left with no choice, she was going to have to give the Ravenclaw's a valid answer — one that would explain everything. She was terrified to open her mouth, in fear her parents would hear from across the country, but nevertheless she spoke. And when she did speak, everything came tumbling out, like a cloud finally letting go of its rain. Her words streamed out of her mouth, as water would plummet for the sky, and suddenly everything was <em>okay</em>.</p><p>    Not comforting, not relieving, just okay. But she would happily take it, and with her revelation, Oscar and Bridget made it their sole purpose to make sure she was well. Whether that meant day-to-day checkups from an optimist Oscar, who always knew the right words to say, or examinations from Bridget on the wounds she was covered in.</p><p>    Infact the whole reason Bridget had gotten interested in becoming a healer was due to Marella. The Ravenclaw had focused her attention on certain books for months on end, this was until she held great knowledge within the subject of healing, becoming Marella's own personal doctor — while also gaining a certain interest in the career that would only grow as time persisted.</p><p>    "Partially I guess." Marella said hesitantly, "But also Kaia." after her sisters name escaped her mouth, she let out a heavy sigh—"She's going to end up like them, and there's nothing I can do about it."</p><p>    Bridget reached her hand out across the table, fingers overlapping with Marella's — she had never been a good talker, so her form of care was normally displayed by touch. Though Oscar next to her always knew what to say, so she left the words to him, just as he left the contact to her. The boy pressed his lips together, thinking through his next sentence before finally speaking up on his friends situation—"Shes at an age now where she can make her own decisions, <em>Mars</em>, you can't worry about her forever. If she goes down that path, it's no ones fault but her own. You need to focus on yourself, because that's what she's doing, you don't see her constantly worrying about you. Infact these last few months shes went out of her way to make your own life a living hell." — the last words stung the girls chest with sustainable force, but they both knew it'd needed to be said — Marella just didn't expect it to affect her so harshly.</p><p>   "I know." the girl said with a groan before running her fingers through the body of her wet hair. "I just wish it didn't have to be like this, if only she hadn't been placed in Slyther—" Oscar interrupted her before she could finish her own sentence, his eyebrows raising slightly—"But she <em>was</em> placed there. Her actions can't be justified, Slytherin or not. I know plenty good Slytherins who have no correlation to the dark arts, she has chosen to go down that route by herself."</p><p>    "I don't think so." Marella said lowly, shaking her head in denial. But what did he expect? That the girl facing him would drop all concerns she had towards her sister, that she would suddenly believe Kaia wasn't anything but another supremest. "Our parents are the issue, she has no choice." she then added, it was a valid reason, but against Oscar it still proved to be weak.</p><p>    "Marella, she does have a choice, and i'm not making any excuse for Cascade and Arroyo's manipulation here. But at the end of the day, her actions are her own responsibility. She's had you to educate her, and <em>still, </em>she's decided to go down the path of darkness. This is out of your control." — once he finished there was a pause in their conversation, a brief silence. Bridget's hold on Marella had tightened — the girl sensing the worry her friend was now radiating, and while she couldn't find the right thing to say , she wanted Marella to know she was there for her. She and Oscar always would be, for they were family now. All three of them, there was no denying it.</p><p>   "I know, you're right. I just don't want her to be like them, i <em>really</em> don't." the girl then sighed in defeat, up against Oscar he would always be the one with the most common sense, but it didn't make the message any less brutal. Once Marella finally gave up on justifying her sisters actions, the conversation began to take a lighter direction, with Bridget telling the pair on any drama occurring around school — which practically consisted of Bridget telling Marella rumours which involved her name, while Oscar snickered into his cup of coffee at how ridiculous they were.</p><p>    But Marella's head seemed to be in a different place again, no longer on her sister, but neither on Bridget. The girl knew come tomorrow morning she would be on the train, travelling back towards the one place she dreaded. She just hoped that the following christmas would be better, and if not, she'd a growing fear on what she might do in sudden impulse.</p><p>    A fear she was right to have.</p><p> </p><p>𐐪𐑂<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>    —<b>IT WAS DURING DEFENCE </b><br/>against the dark arts when Marella was forced into the same room as Sirius. After successfully going all morning avoiding the boy, Marella thought she was in the clear — that was until she looked down at her timetable for the day, only to see the dreaded lesson plastered in spotty ink: Defense against dark arts, with the <em>shitty</em> professor she had yet to leant a single thing from.</p><p>    The girl supposed she was meant to fret about the inaccuracy of the professor before her, stress about his lack of knowledge within the subject he was teaching <b><em>(</em></b> just as Lily Evans across the classroom was doing <b><em>) </em></b>but the girl hardly cared. Normally it would be down to her lack of motivation to learn in the first place, but with the added reason of him being gone by next year, she was breezing through the class without a single worry. Marella knew by the end of the academic year, the teacher before her would be gone — packed up and away, no trace of his stubby face left behind. This was due to the ongoing pattern of <em>DADA</em> teachers, who all appeared for twelve months, before dropping from the face of Hogwarts forever.</p><p>    Marella had avoided the teachers gaze all lesson, a game of cat and mouse where she pretended to scribble down notes every time his pupils landed on her. Truthfully, the girl was far too distracted on the presences of two <em>certain</em> boys to care for the professors opinion on her. It'd just been her luck that she sat nearby James Potter and Sirius Black on the one day she'd wanted to avoid them the most. Every time the long-haired boy spoke, she was set on edge, mind beginning to recall the moments of their night together. She wanted to block him out of her mind, to push him far away from her consciousness, but every attempt had miserably failed.</p><p>    She and Sirius began a gamble of ignorance, ignoring one another to an equal standard. It was if they were in need to prove something, their eyes eliminating eachothers presence, while their mind clouded with thoughts of the other. Though this only lasted a quarter of the lesson, forced to break her erasion of the boy as a crumpled piece of parchment landed on her desk with a thump.</p><p>    Marella was allowed to be annoyed, maybe a little threatened at the note, but instead she found herself utterly foaming. The marauders just did that to her in general. So as her pupils scanned over the contents of the paper, picking up messy letters of James Potter threatening to hex her, she turned.</p><p>    Marella's eyes dragged themselves against each of the pair with annoyance. First they'd landed on James, who could hardly keep himself together — face turning red with laughter at her annoyed state, and then finally onto Sirius. For a moment he looked confused, his own eyes searching hers for the reason, that was until they shifted lower....to the paper on her desk.</p><p>    The truth was that Sirius had payed no participation in the stunt, too busy trying to replicate the bun Marella had been wearing the previous night in his own hair. Though she didn't know this, and with <em>that</em>, they both seemed to experience her newfound wrath.</p><p>    Marella's hand clutched around the paper, wafting it in the air. "Is this supposed to threaten me? Potter you can barely pick up your wand nevermind preform a successful hex." she then spat loudly. From Marella's perspective, it seemed to be clear where Sirius now stood — assuming he'd completely blanked their encounter at the Astronomy tower, and thus, she turned cold once more.</p><p>    She felt like an utter idiot in that moment, annoyed on how it'd taken her this long to realise nothing would change — after all, this was Sirius Black, and Marella's outlook on him was still different to what he was truly like.</p><p>    "Oh piss off flamer, we're just having a joke." James said in defence, a smug grin tugging at the corners of his lips. The boy next to him remained silent throughout the situation, conflicted on what he should do. This was before he'd received a brittle slap on the back from James, who urged him to say something towards Marella. He knew it wasn't a good idea, that he should keep his mouth shut, but he was a <em>fool</em>. His eyes descended to the floor, not wanting to see her soon-to-be reaction as he then spoke up—"Careful mate, she might set you on fire." he'd muttered loosely, though the usual power behind his tone was vacant.</p><p>    Any hope he'd changed was wiped from Marella's mind after his comment entered the air, anger thus racing through her veins with adamant force as she stared on at him — pupils piercing against his distant face, urging him to look up at her, though out of shame he refused to. James let out a snicker at his friends comment before pitching in once more—"I heard she's pretty good at doing that."</p><p>    "<em>She's</em> right here." Marella fired back before turning her attention solely onto the professor before her, now pretending to jot down notes when in reality, her quill only seemed to want to stab the page harshly — leaving behind a black blotch amongst parchment.</p><p>    It didn't take long for her attention to drift from the setting around Marella, her mind taking her back to the fact she was going home tomorrow. Nothing could ever be worse than  the feeling Marella received as she stepped off the platform. To thus see the slender bodies of her family, to feel their grip on her arm as they apparated back to the chilling manor. Marella would give anything in order to not return, but she'd expectations to meet, ones that she couldn't run from even if she'd of wished to.</p><p>    But nothing would prepare Marella for the winter she would endure at the Bardot household. <em>Nothing</em>.<br/>▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃</p>
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<a name="section0015"><h2>15. home sweet hell</h2></a>
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</p><p>  —<b>THE DIFFUSED LIGHT OF </b><br/>a darkened sky hovered above the three as they stepped onto the Express, and by the time the train had set off, water droplets were beginning to hit the misty windows of their compartment. It was supposed to be a sunny day, Marella had been content with that, but as the rain dropped, she felt a plague of dread creep over her — knowing her parents constant squabble over the weather would not be avoided this year. So she bundled her legs up onto the seat, spreading them across the lap of her best friend as she wrapped her arms around her body — now covered by Oscar's lined hoodie.</p><p>She wanted to pitch into the conversation, to join in on the mundane topics arising between her friends, but she couldn't. Every time her lips opened, she was met with no words, her voice proven to be useless. Marella didn't want to go home, that was a given, but she knew that by enjoying herself, the ride would brisk by — and she didn't want it to, she wanted to stay in this certain moment forever: her friends letting out loud laughs, Oscar's scent of ochre firewood clashing with Bridget's floral perfume, <em>safety</em>. Here in this cart, she was safe, shielded from the harm of her parents, protected from the outer world.</p><p>Marella appeared tough, a mess of fury and anger — intimidating to others. But underneath the shell, a scared girl was there. One who longed to step off the train and be greeted with a candid family, to return to a simple home with neither money or power. But she didn't have this, the universe had placed her within the bricks of a towering manor, and while the walls were graced with sheer gold tapestries and bouquets of hanging roses, behind the dollhouse was a place tainted red.</p><p>Maybe it wasn't visible to ones eye, but Marella could see the staining of the house, it's true form. The universe had birthed her into a dynasty, and everyday she would dream of tearing apart her last name, ripping it to <em>utter</em> shreds.</p><p>It was midday when they arrived at the platform, and while the students in other cubicles near her buzzed with unfaltering excitement, she slumped further into her seat. The Ravenclaw knew she was the downcast of her friends, but it was hardly her fault. It wasn't like she meant to feel so dull — banausic infact. However, when you're about to walk into the hands of your abusers, you're hardly going to be filled with happiness.</p><p>The train came to a halt; one Marella had been dreading harshly, and with that children arose from their seats — bidding goodbye to friends with grins mustered over their faces. Marella slipped the jumper off her bones, handing it to Oscar with a smile which didn't reach her cheeks. "Thankyou." she finally spoke, the first words she had muttered all day.</p><p>But Oscar only arched his brow at the girl before finally speaking, "You can keep it, if you want."</p><p>Marella desperately wanted to retain it, because then she would have a memory of what lay waiting, possibly a shred of hope amongst the next fourteen days of darkness, but she knew the fabric would only be destroyed. Her parents could sniff out anything with a dash of muggle, and she didn't want to risk more conflict than what would be waiting for her soon.</p><p>So she let out a deep sigh, eyes flickering up to Oscar's. "You know I can't." she uttered quietly, <em>timid</em>.</p><p>He understood, taking the jumper from her arms as he let out a lop-sided beam. "You can have it when we come back then." he wasn't angry, in fact he appeared quite comforting.</p><p>Bridget looked over at her friends, discarding the belongings she was attempting to re-pack, moving towards them. "<em>Just</em> like the present waiting for you when we return, think of it as something to look forward to." she uttered light-heartedly, her arm resting on Marella's back as she shuffled her body closer — head leaning on the girl's shoulder.</p><p>There was no point in giving the Bardot her Christmas present before Christmas <b><em>(</em></b> and sending it to her was out of the question <b><em>)</em></b> so they'd waited until they returned to Hogwarts.  Whilst they'd only started doing it the year prior, it was already tradition for the three.</p><p>Marella let out a singular laugh as she smiled once more, this time unintentional, pulling her friends into a warm embrace. Her arms cradled the warm bodies before her, taking in the last interaction with them, the last flicker of good she would see for an extended amount of time. She wished she could pause the clock, to stay in the moment until she wasn't scared anymore, but she couldn't. "I love you." she murmured to them, she hadn't been one to show affection, so the gesture was meaningful.</p><p>"We love you too." Bridget whispered in response, her hands digging deep into Marella's skin — clutching as if she were about to loose her forever, but then again, it was possible. Marella was a buzzing enigma, sickened with unpredictability. So Bridget was scared, <em>yes scared</em>, that the girl before her would be broken by the time they returned.</p><p>Everytime Marella stepped into the manor, enforced back into the world she wanted to escape, she lost a piece of herself. Now she was the crumbling remains of a teenager, one flicker away from disintegrating into a scattered pile of limbs and darkness. Her friends knew this, they could see pain depicted on her face — led pencil tracing the trauma she held, crafting a bittersweet piece of art. A Renaissance painting entangled within Marella's bruised flesh — sewed with precision.</p><p>When the three finally let go, Oscar and Bridget thought nothing of it, but Marella's whole world came crashing down. Internally, of course, her countenance remaining monotone as the Ravenclaw's heart plummeted into the depths of her chest. It was as their contact was broken, skin no longer meeting skin, that she realised it was time to go home.</p><p><em>No</em>, it wasn't time to go home, for she was there already — it was time to leave home, to depart from the people who had brought out the good within the numb. And it fucking hurt, more than she'd imagined, more than it had last year. <br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>𐐪𐑂<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>—<b>THE SHARP FACES OF </b><br/>two parents, hands meeting by the sides of their waist, intertwined with force, greeted Marella as her feet pressed against the wet pavement of a train station. Cascade and Arroyo's faces didn't soften when they caught sight of their middle child, but they did let out a small smile when their youngest stepped off the Express. It should've hurt the girl as she addressed her family with a nod that they hardly reciprocated, merely turning their attention towards Kaia, smothering her with the love Marella was owed. It shouldve hurt, but she didn't care, not anymore at least.</p><p>She supposed she should speak, let her lips blow out the pretty lies her parents wished to hear, but she hadn't done it in so long, and she wasnt going to start again. Marella soon realised it was better for her parents to have little expectations of her, a disappointment of the family name, because then she wasn't held to the standards of other Bardot girls. It was better this way.</p><p><em>So</em> she used her last free second to let out a breath of release, soaking up the damp smell of the setting — she'd always loved the earth after it rained, the humid scent easing her mood to a calmer state.</p><p>She hated Sirius Black in that second, loathing every dent to mark he carried among his skin, because while he stood by the sides of the Potter family, she was about to be whisked away into an endless cycle of torment and violence. It wasn't his fault, he deserved to escape his own home just as much as she did, but the resentment was still there — and it still stung.</p><p>Every fibre in her dejected body wanted to run, feet pounding the ground until she was out of sight, the only worry being the coldness now creeping over her. She could imagine it, her brown hair billowing behind her as she never looked back. It was a dream, no scratch that, a fantasy. But it was fiction, merely a story she'd read in a novel, things like that didn't happen in real life. Not to her.</p><p>Some people never get to escape the darkness.</p><p>It didn't matter how confident Marella Bardot had been in the many years she'd walked the earth, stood next to her parents, she felt like a little girl. <em>Weak</em>. In that moment it must've been blatantly obvious why she hadnt landed a spot in Gryffindor, knowing they would have bolted by now, instead she was smarter than that — she knew it was not wise, <em>not yet</em> atleast.</p><p>The initial thought of leaving the manor was a strange one, perplexing in a way, because while she may of resented every second she was obligated to be there, she hadn't known any different. It had always been this way, and the altercation of moving didn't change it. The rules she had learnt to follow <b><em>(</em></b> some she'd heard directly from the sources mouth, whilst others being unspoken, left to figure out alone <b><em>)</em></b> were engraved into her life. It was the standard, a pattern she'd learnt to follow from an early age. The norm.</p><p>  But things were changing, the society around Marella was becoming darker, with speculations of Voldemort rising to power; propaganda being spread by hush whispers of the pure-blooded community, that and many muggle attacks suddenly transpiring within the last few months. It wasn't just the appearance of Tom Riddle which had began to alter the world around Marella, but she herself. The girl wasn't a child anymore, no she didn't have the blessed gift of youth now, and soon she would be beckoned for her higher purpose.</p><p>Soon was too soon, and time was slipping from her grasp. It seemed like yesterday she was attending her first ball, and while Marella's clock was unknown, tomorrow could quite possibly be her betrothal.</p><p>Her death-date. Whether she brought the hook around her neck or not, every last trace of the spitfire would be rinsed away. It was inevitable.</p><p>The jagged entrance of Marella was hardly graceful, her mother snatching her hand as she abruptly apparated the two of them to the manor. All she could remember was the coldness slapping her face as she teleported, skin being met with the unfriendly temperature of the house. Her body heat began to drain, leaching out slowly as her eyes flickered around the familiar setting, which replicated the manor in America with delicate precision.</p><p>"Kaia, go up to your room." Cascade ordered loudly, her voice bouncing against the marble walls of the room, piercing the air around the family. The Slytherin didn't protest as Marella had of hoped, she didnt even send a look in the direction of her sister, face turning away from her sibling as she climbed the spiral staircase.</p><p>Now it was just Cascade and Arroyo, alone with the origin of their hatred, and this figure of disappointment knew what was to come. Her body halted in preparation, stiffening to the core as she merely swallowed, though her dried throat was only met with acidic salvia.</p><p>There was an aberrant force to her parents words, for they came out in sparks of intensity, like electric shots spiking into the flesh of Marella, while appearing to stay utterly stark. They could yell till their gullet scratched in pain, till they'd used up every word in the dictionary, but it still would hang plainly to Marella.</p><p>She had gotten used to the screaming now, and so their attempt at recoiling her into submission failed — as it had multiple times previously.</p><p>When Arroyo spat at his daughter, disgust dripping from his aged face, Marella sunk into a daze of tension. When he left the room, Marella became disquieted, knowing that another had turned their back on her, now leaving Marella with the true monster — if there ever had been a beast in the lineage, it would be Cascade. The woman's eyes narrowed as she stepped closer, now the girl could taste the silence of the air, it's bitterness hanging on the tip of her tongue — knowing too well that it would soon be replaced by her screams.</p><p>Her father had shown his resentment for her with a sharp stare, possibly a sneer if her presence was becoming more of a liability that day, but her mother was different. Cascade showed her hatred for Marella with dominance, imparting fear in the teenagers mind before she even laid a hand on her. So when the impact did hit Marella, she was left with a red welt rising among her flesh. She was never done, there'd always been more, until Marella was on the floor in a pile of whimpers, the woman would persist.</p><p>In a quick stride, Cascade's fist had hardened, now making contact with the Bardot's face. It'd been one of many hits she'd taken in the face that night, alongside the ones her lower limbs endured. Soon she found herself laying on the floor, blood seeping under her skin, body shaking and stifling in pain. Marella was so frail in that moment it took all of her strength to close her eyes, desperately trying to clutch onto the memories she'd accumulated at Hogwarts.</p><p>But she saw nothing; the pitch black isolation of her mind. Every facet of the girl had been denigrated, leaving her spread out on the floor in a shattered disarray.</p><p>Nobody came for her..to scoop her body into their arms, to cradle her until she was whole again, so she just laid there for what seemed like eternity. Every second extended for hours on end, crimson tears originating from her ailing eyes washing down her wrecked face — as if they were trying to wipe away the fresh wounds, to heal them into nothing. But if that was the case, her salty tears failed, because the pain persisted.</p><p>It was after Arroyo had later trudged out of his office, the pungent smell of liquor and smoke following after him, did he heal her fractured bones. Yet the scars were irreversible, no spell or ointment seeming to rub away the power of her mother's wand, so they'd been left there to scab and mark. If she was lucky they'd fade away, though luck had never been on the girls side. </p><p> </p><p>𐐪𐑂<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>—<b>DINNER WAS CALLED UPON</b><br/>at precisely seven in the evening, and as Kaia sat down at the table awaiting for her parents arrival, she noticed something grimly wrong with her sister. The little girl knew that turning her back on Marella had been immoral, but infront of her parents, everything was terrifying.</p><p>Now Kaia's sister sat slumped in her chair, eyes devoid of any emotions, blankly staring on at her. It was after a dragged out moment of silence when finally a cracked voice spoke, sore from the screams she had bellowed out in instinct to the pain. <em>Why</em>. It was a puzzling question Kaia couldn't answer, because the mere excuse of being scared wasn't enough, it would <em>never</em> be enough. "I'm sorry." Kaia avoided the unanswerable question, timidly responding to her older sister with an empty apology.</p><p>"You could've stopped them." Marella whimpered, she had never been one to cast blame onto someone, but this was different. The Ravenclaw didn't expect an interference, a shooting speck of bravery among the younger Bardot, just a lousy excuse to get them off her trail for a short while. So she could prepare for the inevitable collision of their hands against her face, the blow of their wand.</p><p>Their ravaging cruelty.</p><p>Kaia gulped, "I know."</p><p>"I don't know how much longer I can do this." Marella admitted, and whilst not a sound was made, an internal clutter had erupted into the air.</p><p>Kaia now shot up in her seat, mouth slightly agape. "You're going to leave?" she said with urgency, yet maintaining their secret conversation with a hushed tone. They both knew the reason why Kaia Bardot was so concerned on her sister leaving, and it wasn't because she would be left alone, but because she didn't want to receive the abuse that Marella had carried for them both.</p><p>"Define leave?" Marella uttered, to which her sister let out a horrified glare, realising her sister was thinking of committing suicide. She was baffled, heart pounding in her chest with sudden force, unable to process the blank words she had spoken aloud. Just as she went to speak, lips ready to pounce, she was interrupted by the figure of her mother — now towering above the two as she stood in a silk nightgown, her hourglass figure shown through the tightness of the fabrics structure.</p><p>It was a tense atmosphere, with Kaia's eyes staying sternly on Marella, while Cascade's observed everything but her scarred daughter — a usual occurrence after anger had been retaliated on the girl. At one point Marella had thought it was out of guilt, that burrowed deep within the poison of Cascade's contents, there was truly a conscience there.</p><p>Yet Marella wasn't a clueless child anymore, she knew the true reason her own mother couldn't look at her, and it wasn't out of repentance. Cascade Bardot was disgusted at her child's face, not in the superficial standard for the wounds she displayed, but out of disappointment.</p><p>To the older woman, she was a waste of good clothes, of a family surrounded by wealth, and whilst they attempted to maintain her beliefs in a quiet manner — both she and her husband knew that the girl couldn't be anymore against them. If it came down to sacrificing her, for power among other pure-bloods, they'd do it.</p><p>Oh they'd do it with a smile.</p><p>Dinner was quiet, as it was most nights, with only the slight clamber of forks against porcelain and the low mumbles of chatter from her parents — striking up conversation with her sister, shoving Marella to the side, pretending she was somewhere far away from the dining table. And they weren't the only ones, the Ravenclaw proved to be imagining she was somewhere safe, somewhere welcome.</p><p>Marella liked to play a little game, one that distracted her mind from the daunting bodies before her. The food wasn't a good distraction, for it was too small, too cruel <b><em>(</em></b> though she knew this plate would soon narrow down to simple nothingness as the week persisted <b><em>)</em></b>. She liked to pretend she was at certain students houses, the ones who you could tell had been raised with abundance and love, it was an escape from realism. So as she sat, back straightened with precision, her mind slipped into a daze — and tonight she visualised the Potters.</p><p>She imagined a hefty feast, a handmade one from the likes of elves, where Sirius and James were free to eat as much as they possibly wished. She imagined gifts, genuine ones wrapped with warmth, that correlated to what the children honestly wanted. Marella's mind was able to paint a picture she so desperately longed for, with them all gathered around the tree together, displaying widening grins, sculpting a delicate reminiscence One which would forever be held within their memory banks.</p><p>"Marella," Cascade sneered, diverting the girls attention away from her dreamland and back into the murky reality, "I do hope you're not associating with those <em>mudbloods</em> anymore." her voice deepened, words escaping her mouth with a dark undertone.</p><p>"So what if I am?" The Ravenclaw responded, speaking in a dim whisper — her throat struggling to emit sounds due to its raw state.</p><p>Cascade's face dropped further, "You are a disgrace to this family." she then said through gritted teeth, to which Marella merely rolled her eyes.</p><p>"Mother, you've told me that everyday of my life,<em> I know</em>."</p><p>"We do everything for you <em>girl</em>." Arroyo joined in, fork dumped on his plate with a rumble as he drove his awareness fully onto their problem child.</p><p>Marella let out a singular laugh, splinting the air with force, "Like what? What have you ever done for me, exactly?"</p><p>Arroyo's eyebrows crumpled, face boiling crimson with fury. "We have given you a place to live, eat, sleep. We have provided you with clothes and a good future."</p><p>"A good future?" She choked out, body beginning to shake with anger— or maybe her bones were finally giving in, ready to set off like a hurricane, only leaving behind a disgruntled mess. If that was the case, so be it.</p><p>"—I will get married, that is my future father, that is the future you paved for me."</p><p><em>"AND THAT</em>," his mouth bellowed out a yell, causing Cascade's bony fingers to wrap around his arm, calming him down. "...is a good future, that is your sole purpose." he finished his sentence in the same anger, but quieter.</p><p>"I am more than just a mans property."</p><p>"Stop it with these tarnished views, I knew Hogwarts would brainwash you into becoming a <em>modern</em> woman, but this is not you. This is not the girl we raised to uphold the Bardot legacy."</p><p>"Brainwashed? Father if anyone brainwashed me, it was you."</p><p>"Enough." Cascade sighed, "Marella go up to your room, silence your mouth." she then ordered, to which the girl didn't bother arguing further, drained from any potential energy, so instead she pulled her pained body up and slowly trudged away. Fifteen days, that's all she had to cope with, then she would be back to safety.</p><p>360 hours she endured in that house, 360 hours she would never get back, a bundle of time thrown into the bin, discarded like waste. Countless nights of abuse turned into early mornings of burning rays, shooting down on her tired skin, scalding her with their yellow brightness.</p><p>Snow never came, though it was predicted, instead her windows merely displayed occasional rain, and <em>always</em> sun. She had to give an award to the burning planet, for it was consistent, and after awhile, she came to expect its presence. Soon the days burnt to ash, and she was greeted by the Hogwarts Express once more.</p><p>Still she stood, ringless and a free girl, wondering when her rights would be snatched from her grasp, if it hadn't been Christmas, it would definitely be summer.</p><p>Therefore, as she boarded the train, she realised these were her last few months, and she wasn't going to waste them studying — not like Marella ever had before.</p><p>If she was going out, she was going out like a bomb. Messy and explosive. <br/>▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃</p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0016"><h2>16. trauma dashed tears</h2></a>
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</p><p>—<b>"SO WHAT YOU'RE SAYING </b><br/>is, you're gonna go off the rails?" Oscar asked hesitantly, his head resting on the girls lap as she brushed her fingers through his growing locks of hair.</p><p>    Marella looked down at him, shrugging, "Something like that, I guess."</p><p>Bridget sat on the opposing side of them, body stretched out across the train's full seat, flipping through a trashy muggle magazine she'd accumulated when waiting for the Express. She looked up, her thumb resting on the word she was previously reading, "I think its a good idea Ella. I mean,  it'll piss off your parents, and that's the whole purpose, right?"</p><p>Marella let out a sigh, finger twirling around a strand of Oscar's hair. "Not entirely." she knew that she needed to tell someone about her betrothal, even if it wouldn't change anything. "When I get back home for summer, chances are, i'll be engaged to some pure-blooded freak."</p><p>Bridget's mouth gaped, magazine now being discarded on the seat with lack of regard, "What do you mean?" she spat out quickly as Oscar pulled himself up, sensing the seriousness of what his friend had just said.</p><p>"But, I thought they weren't going to do that...because last time, you know." Bridget asked with concernment. "You set fire to your house." she then mumbled.</p><p>"No, my family said they weren't going to marry me off to someone I was related to. But sadly, nothing can change their views on my betrothal."</p><p>Bridget pulled herself up, shuffling over to the opposing seat. "Couldn't you just..leave?" she then said as she leant her head against the girls shoulders. <em>Maybe</em>, Marella sighed out as Oscar wrapped his arms around her frame. "Stay with one of us." Bridget continued, her voice coming out in a murmured whisper.</p><p>Oscar sensed her uncertainty, presenting her with a question softy  — afraid she may break if they were to push too hard. "Whats stopping you?" he asked. <em>Whats stopping you</em>, the pile of words repeated in her mind, because really, what was stopping her?</p><p>"I'm scared." Marella croaked out finally, because that was the truth. She was scared of breaking from her family, of taking the darkened path, the traitorous one. She had been told a certain set of beliefs her whole life, and while she certainly disagreed with them, to create action against them was a whole new thing. Because there would always be a piece of Marella her family had polluted, telling, <em>manipulating</em> her to seek unspeakable measures.</p><p>"Just think about it, okay?" Oscar said softly as he fumbled with the mood-rings on his index finger,  "You will always be welcome at mine or Bridget's, <em>we love you</em>."</p><p>"Great, now you're just making me a soppy mess." Marella let out a frail laugh as she brushed her hand against her cheek, wiping away any loose tears. The girl exhaled, gathering herself before continuing, "I love you guys, but I'm not sure right now. I'm just—"</p><p>Bridget pressed a kiss against her shoulder—"Its okay, you can think this through, you still have time Mars." she sensed the girls stress and hesitancy, easing her to the best of her own abilities.</p><p>1976 had crept up on Marella, with a new wave of feminism and hippie culture, the year ahead proved to hold significant changes to both her and the world. As she peeled off the clothes her parents had forced her into <b><em>(</em></b> a black slinky dress with a matte finish <b><em>)</em></b>, she stood in observation of her ragged body, now displayed in the bathroom mirror of the train.</p><p>There was a puncturing wound near her ribcage, exhibiting manky purple. It hurt when contact occurred. She traced the tips of her fingers over it, flinching when skin made contact with abuse.</p><p>Unable to look at her figure anymore, she slipped into uniform, her usual leather jacket replacing the cloaks they were required to wear. The kitten heels her feet had been forced into were switched for a pair of comfortable Doc Martins, which were now battered and old, though Marella seemed to prefer them this way.</p><p>Once she was changed, she merely splashed some cool water against her face, washing away concealer. Over the two week break, she'd gotten into a routine of not wearing any makeup, so the cosmetics plastered across her appearance were now fairly irritating.</p><p>It was after her face was completely clean did she decide to leave the cubicle, eyes browsing for a free compartment where she could gather herself briefly — giving herself time to think through her friends offer, which she was still unsure on. But just as Marella thought she'd found an empty cart, her body half hanging into it, she was uncomfortably mistaken, because a face she had seen rarely around Hogwarts turned.</p><p>He'd been crying, Marella could tell, for the space beneath his pupils was smeared with redness, sore to touch. His shoulders were now slumped, unable to carry his own baggage anymore, and the gloom his pupils showcased flashed dejection — revealing the vulnerable parts of himself that he'd worked so hard to cover. He was scarily alike his brother, and yet, they seemed to resent eachother. "Shit, sorry." The girl broke the silence, drawn back to reality as she tossed her hair out of the way, "I thought this compartment was empty."</p><p>"Well its not." Regulus Black snapped, though his croaky voice couldn't hold any force, coming out in some form of a hysterical whimper. His head shook, trying to hold back the storm of tears, but it didn't appear to work, for it only took one thing to send him over the edge, and Marella's presence seemed to be this final straw. Tears rained down his skin, to which he buried his face within hands, unable to conceal his vulnerable state a second longer, trying to mask it, or purely stop the trail of water.</p><p>The Ravenclaw felt incredibly awkward, but the sob his mouth emitted pierced right through her, and before she could blink, she found herself sitting next to him, attempting to console the Black to the best of her ability. Marella's hand slowly moved to his back, rubbing it gently. As his weeps grew louder, she found herself pulling him into a tight embrace, one he didn't hesitate to respond to, his head burying itself in her shoulder. "He hates me." his muffled voice cried out as his tears started to drench into her shirt, something she didn't care for, her lips sealed as she let him pour out his feelings.</p><p>She didn't know how to comfort someone. <em>Fuck</em>, she hardly knew how to comfort herself.</p><p>"Hey its okay." she muttered, only assuming the <em>he</em> Regulus was referring to was Sirius. "He doesn't, I promise." she reassured the boy.</p><p>"He does!" Regulus responded to Marella, disregarding the fact they were strangers. "He does and its all my fault." Emotional pain flowed out of his every pore, and whilst the breakdown had been triggered by his brother, the girl could only assume it went deeper than that.</p><p>The boys chin began to tremble, voice caving in, unable to release anymore words. In the moment, for both Marella and Regulus, the world began to blur, and a singular tear fell down her own cheek, maybe it was from the power of the Slytherins sadness, or from her own, but everything caved around the two.</p><p>The broken shell of the boy before Marella reminded her of Kaia, and all she wanted to do was shield him, because she knew he was suffering just as much as all of the Bardot sisters were. He cried as if his spirit needed to escape his flesh, desperate to release an elemental rage on the earth. But everything had to end at some point, and gradually, Regulus began to calm down, his attentiveness starting to come back to him.</p><p>Once he was completely dry of tears, and Marella's own were discarded <b><em>(</em></b> as if they'd never been there <b><em>)</em></b>, she let go of him, ready to make her exit. But it was just as she stood, that she heard another sound escape his mouth, yet this one wasn't full of sadness. "Wait! You're the Bardot, right?"</p><p>Marella turned, head flickering around instantly at mention of her last name. She assumed he'd gathered that by now, put the pieces together, but she didn't expect him to actually communicate — for there was an everlasting feud between the two families. "Sadly." she sighed as her body rotated, now completely facing the younger boy.</p><p>"Thankyou." he whispered, before bringing his eyes up to hers, panic starting to arise within his features. "You're not going to tell anyone, are you?" he spoke alertedly, afraid to be known as anything vulnerable.</p><p>Power was a currency, and he didn't want to go broke. Not when he sat comfy on top.</p><p>"Of course not, I'll take this one to the grave." she let out a forced laugh, relief washing over her as he finally smiled. "I promise."</p><p>Regulus pondered for a moment, internally debating whether or not he wanted to continue the conversation, intrigue now casted over him. After a split second of conversing his mind, he sighed, <em>Why? </em>was all he managed to let out. But it was enough for the girl to understand.</p><p>Marella sent him a loose shrug, "Im not like my family, I guess, I don't care about what your surname is."</p><p>"I'm not like my family either." he said softly, "It may come as a surprise, but I don't agree with their views." at that, Marella returned to her previous spot, sitting down next to him</p><p>"Then I guess we're pretty alike." she smiled genuinely.</p><p>"Sirius still thinks I'm one of them,<em> er.. </em>that's why I was crying I guess." his hands attempted to fix his scraggy hair as he continued. "Well I guess it goes deeper than that, but I'm not gonna bother you—" the boy was cut off by Marella, simply letting out a <em>you're not</em>. Because truthfully, he wasn't, it comforted her to know there was others in a similar situation to her, and she knew Regulus before her was slowly crumbling, and she wasn't going to allow him to fall apart by himself.</p><p>"—The only friends I have are blood-supremacists, and I really don't want to be like them, not anymore at least. But I feel so lost, so unsure, because while my body longs to do the right thing, join the good side, there's a piece of me saying the opposite. And it's <em>so</em> relentless."</p><p>"I wish I could give you some guidance, but Regulus...im in the exact same situation."</p><p>"Great, I've just befriended someone as hopeless as I am." he said sarcastically.</p><p>"Oh we're friends now, are we?" Marella raised her eyebrow.</p><p>"You'll be my first one...well<em> real</em> one." he said with a laugh, but Marella was able to perceive the sadness layered underneath the comment, so she pulled herself up, reaching her hand out—</p><p>"—Come on, ill introduce you to another two."</p><p>As Marella weaved her way through the aisle, which was now dotted with the occasional student, Regulus followed behind her, chatting briefly. Though it was hard for Marella to make small talk when she'd just watched the boy behind her shatter into pieces, nevertheless the empty talk continued until they reached the compartment.</p><p>Now inside, there was three people instead of the usual two, Adara. "Okay I'm back, and I brought along someone else." she said in a sarcastically cheerful tone, pointing the sheepish boy. Bridget opened her mouth to comment, but Marella pushed her voice back into the air before she could. "This is Reggie, he's now my plus-one, so be <em>nice</em>." the stress on the word shut Bridget up, discarding her previous comment to the trash of her inner mind.</p><p><em>"Heey</em>." Regulus said slowly as he sat next to Marella, now facing two Ravenclaws he had yet to meet, awkwardness present in his tone.</p><p>Oscar looked up, discarding the book he'd taken to reading during Marella's absence. He let out a pleasant smile, not seemingly bothered by the Blacks presence...at all, "Nice to meet you Reggie, I'm Oscar."</p><p>After that, Marella sent a sharp glance over towards Bridget, who looked uncertain about the whole situation, urging her to introduce herself. Bridget merely rolled her eyes at the girl before turning to Regulus, "I'm Bridget but you can call me Bridge."</p><p>"You already know me," Adara shrugged before turning to Marella, "So I see you've finally graced us with your presence." she said with a small laugh, eyebrows raising.</p><p>Marella's lips parted slightly, staring at the girl opposite her for a moment before grinning. "Yeah, managed to fit you into my bustling schedule."</p><p>"Yeah and what would that consist of?" Bridget snickered, to which Marella draped her arm around Regulus' shoulders, responding quickly—"Uh spending time with my plus-one, <em>obviously</em>."</p><p>Regulus' nodded his head, "Exactly, we're busy people."</p><p>The train continued to run just as the five continued to talk, and by the time they reached Hogwarts, Regulus had slotted himself right into the group, any worries revolving around his surname dropping from the Ravenclaw's minds.</p><p>"Don't miss us too much." Marella said comically as they reached the main hall, ready to split off into the corresponding houses.</p><p>Regulus responded back similarly to Marella, pressing his palm up against his heart—"I can't make any promises, but ill try." he called out loudly, other students around the group taking back at his appearance near the Ravenclaw's, and even more at his new and sudden burst of energy.</p><p>"You can try all you want, but it doesn't get much better than us." Bridget muttered as she playfully shoved the boy off in the opposing direction. </p><p> </p><p>𐐪𐑂<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>—<b>THE SKY ABOVE THE </b><br/>main hall was now ashy with thickening mist, a cloudy night rolling within the twilight sky, though puffs of grey concealed this darkness. The windy air had been replaced by streams of fog the color of ash and soot. They blanketed the sky, hiding the full moon alongside the Twilight time, chanting the hall with an ominous feeling that every child seemed to sense within their blood.</p><p>As the night progressed and speeches were made, the clouds became more sporadic, sparse in some spaces, while abundant in other areas of the hall. In the gaps the sky was black, with only the beams of a moonlight to shine upon its canvas, it didn't take a fool to realise it would be a cold night.</p><p>The rumbling clutters of forks and the growing noise of children chatting amongst their houses soon took up the raspy air, and Marella gradually forgot about what lay above her, the sky slipping from her mind quietly.  It was as she was finishing her food that her friends began to spin up a conversation, being too busy before with eating to delve into pointless chatter. "So how'd you meet Reggie then?" Oscar, who was now sitting besides Bridget <b><em>(</em></b> facing the other two <b><em>)</em></b> asked with curiosity.</p><p>"I ran into him while I was making my way back to the compartment, seemed like he needed somewhere to go, so I took him along with me." Marella lied with ease.</p><p>"Do you think Sirius minds that your buddying up with his younger brother?" Oscar asked with a raised brow, shaking the cup in his grasp.</p><p>Truthfully, the girl had forgotten about Sirius during her time in the manor, just as she had equally forgotten about their brief moment in the Astronomy Tower. But all of the anger which had condensed from her mind began to clump back together once his name was mentioned, and soon she found the growing hatred for him start to reign her stomach. "I don't fucking care what he thinks." Marella said as her head shook slightly.</p><p>"I just think you need to be careful, you don't want to become one of his targets." Oscar replied lowly.</p><p>"He doesn't dictate what I do or who I become friends with."</p><p>Bridget looked up from her plate of food, "To be fair, Marella's way more scarier than he is. I wouldn't want to be one of <em>her</em> targets."</p><p>"Thankyou Bridge, I agree." The girl said as she turned back to Oscar, "I'll be fine, I've got shittier things to worry about then some boy with a nickname situated for a dog."</p><p>It was after the previous comment escaped her lips did she realise the hefty bruise still sitting on her skin, being one of those 'shittier things' she definitely needed to worry about. Her eyes trailed over towards the doors, where students were starting to make their way out of the halls on their own accord, deeming dinner over, before turning back to Bridget. "Hey can we go, I've got <em>something</em> to show you." the emphasis on the something did not go unnoticed, her friend hastily pulling herself up with a nod.</p><p>Oscar understood too, though he decided to stay as the distraction for their other roommate, who was left out of the loop involving Marella's home life.</p><p> </p><p>𐐪𐑂<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p><b>—MARELLA'S FINGERS FUMBLED THE </b>buttons of her white shirt, slowly undoing them as Bridget gathered the many potions she had learnt to make from textbooks and the gracious advice of madam Pomfrey. Once the top was off, she laid down on the bed, "Don't freak out." she then muttered to her friend whilst the girls back was still turned, but at notice of the many nasty wounds sunk into her flesh, the girl did in fact, freak out.</p><p>"Im going to kill those fuckers." she growled, and while her face hardened with anger, her touch on Marella's body stayed gentle, applying some white cream onto the scars with an unfaltering softness. When Bridget had done all she could, which was a lot more than Marella could ever ask for, she sat herself down on the edge of the bed, a hefty sigh escaping her lips. "Please don't go back there." she begged.</p><p>    "Its not that simple—" Marella began to say, but she was cut off by Bridget."</p><p>"—They're hurting you, badly."  she cried out.</p><p>"I know...I know." Marella soothed her friend as she slipped on a loose top, "I think I'm going to go on a quick walk." she said after a tense moment, trying to slip away from the conversation Bridget had just relit.</p><p>"You want me to come with you?"</p><p>"No, its okay. I think I need some time alone, to think."</p><p>"Okay well don't get caught, and wear a coat!" the Ravenclaw instructed in a motherly tone, "I saw that sky in the main hall and I'm not having you come back with ammonia."</p><p>"Yes mother." Marella joked as she tore off her school skirt, replacing it with a pair of scuffed mom-jeans and a black denim jacket. "Happy?" she added as she began to move towards the door, to which Bridget merely responded with a sacrcastic<em> "elated"</em>.</p><p>    Marella was an idiot to assume she would escape the castle without another obstacle being thrown in her way, with only one mental breakdown <b><em>(</em></b> not being hers, for once <b><em>)</em></b> she was left to worry about the next piece of destruction to come spinning in her direction. The universe was plotting, as it always was, and soon it found itself conjuring up a hurdle in the shape of a young girl — a young girl familiarly known as her sister.</p><p>"Marella, what on earth are you doing?" Kaia called out from behind her sister, to which Marella paused, body quickly turning.</p><p>"How...wha...bloody hell." the Ravenclaw stuttered, confused at her siblings presence, before remembering the prefect badge which had arrived by owl at the start of the year. She wasn't surprised she had forgotten, because thats what she usually did, block out any achievements Kaia received, so she could never compare herself to the younger girl.</p><p>"I'll repeat myself, what are you doing? Its past curfew." Kaia declared with sternness.</p><p>Marella held her hands up, palms facing outwards as she gestured surrender. "Alright, chill out. I was <em>just</em> going on a walk."</p><p>"Its past curfew!"</p><p>"I can't sleep, mattress is poking the bruises dear mumzy inflicted on me." Marella spat out, desperate to escape the suffocation of the castle.</p><p>Kaia looked up at her sister, guilt washing over her face for a moment before it was concealed by a snarl. "Well maybe you should stop misbehaving, they only do it because you're such a blood-traitor." the word was a trigger, and from that statement alone, Marella pulled down the top of her jeans, taking a step closer to her sister.</p><p>On her flesh, <em>blood traitor</em> stood carved with ferocity. Marella's voice hit the air loudly, powerfully, causing the girl to sink into a state of fear. "Remember that time when you brought home a muggle band t-shirt?"</p><p>Kaia's face showed panic, "Y-yeah, but I lost it? It was a mistake, one mum never found out about."</p><p>"Wrong, she found it." the Ravenclaw then declared, her hands continuing to reveal the scar situated on her waist, slowly tracing over each engraved letter. "But <em>I</em> took the blame for it."</p><p>"N-no.."</p><p>Her finger circled across the word, "This is what I got as punishment."</p><p>"M-marella." Kaia stuttered out, eyes wide with shock, mouth parted open.</p><p>But her sister merely turned around, covering the trauma back up. "I think you need to re-evaluate who is truly on your side, because I'm done saving your arse. Ive been taking your punishments for years now, and I don't intend on receiving another injury because of you, not again." and just like that, Marella was gone, far out of Kaia's eyesight, leaving the younger Bardot to stand frozen in sudden revelation.</p><p>Marella didn't stop until she was out of the castle, until the brittle air slammed against her frame, and only then did she really sigh, an exhale in which every remainder of energy came seeping out of her lips.</p><p>It was now turning midnight, and the fogginess within the forbidden forest blocked her eyesight from what lay ahead, she could hardly make out her close-by surroundings, nevermind the far distance, but still, she persisted. Any other time, Marella would have turned around, casted herself back inside the warmth of Hogwarts, but that certain night she was far too distressed to return just yet — hoping to calm down before re-entering her dorm.</p><p>Yet it only took one careless choice to completely shake her world, and soon the monster hidden behind the blanket of ash would be no different to her. The two becoming alike, and all it took was one bite. One bite she would soon be succumb to.<br/>▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃</p>
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<a name="section0017"><h2>17. the forgotten pages of lore</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>context; explaining how the feud between Bardot's &amp; Blacks came to be<br/>-1800s.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
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</p><p><b>—CYGNUS BLACK, ONE OF THE EARLIEST MEMBERS OF THE NOBLE HOUSE OF BLACK, HATED ASHER BARDOT</b>. Their resentment of each other had rooted from opposing views, growing into a long-lasting quarrel during both the boys time at Hogwarts in the 1800s. Their hatred was poisonous, acrid on the tip of ones tongue, and appeared to effect the students around the pair, creating an spiralling speculation on what they may fire at each other next.</p><p>Cygnus was dripped in elite blood, metallic running through his body that seemed to hold him more righteous than others, and he utterly soaked in this glory. His chin was permanently lifted high, pointed nose looking down on other students with superiority, and he was commonly known for sneering at anything he wished. While in the Wizarding society, Cygnus was perceived exceptional, within the walls of Hogwarts, he couldn't of been more the opposite. Although a growing group of pure-blooded Slytherins worshipped his back persistently, he hadn't mastered dominance in regards to his education. Falling behind in simple lessons, the boy was perceived as dumb, lacking a regular sized brain people speculated.</p><p>Asher Bardot didn't have the evergreen dynasty Cygnus accumulated, instead he'd been birthed from two regular muggles in a poor, downcast environment. Everything the Slytherin had, he lacked, everything <em>but</em> one skill he'd been created with, blessed to carry. Arnav was the brightest wizard to ever roam the Hogwarts halls during the current period, and for many to follow.</p><p>While the affair of the two ended right there during both story times, whether the child was a Black or a Bardot, the families hadn't even scratched the surface, merely narrowing the hatred down to the regards of teenage rivalry, neither going into any detail on blood-purity, because in truth, the boys past didn't end there. Every loose thread, dead end upon the common bedtime tale was knitted together somewhere deep within history, muted into silence, unable to blurt out its angst-filled story. The final chapters of them had been burnt to a crisp, discarded into a pile of ashes on the ground to rot, forgotten within time and memory.</p><p>But within a dusty book hidden in the rows of a manor was the full story, the complete novel of them, only being written down once on tear-stained parchment, made to be buried. No ones hands had ever grazed upon this hard-covered explosion of heartbreak and legacy, so it stood there, patiently awaiting the day where it would be found. <br/><br/><br/></p><p>𐐪𐑂<br/><br/><br/></p><p>
  <b>WITHIN THESE PAGES, THE PRECEDING INDENTATIONS SETTLED: </b>
  <em>I think I started to love him during the autumn of 1845, but I did not know of this feeling arising in my chest, assuming it was some nasty illness trying to take over my body. I wanted to caress his porcelain skin, to reach my palm out and press it against him, to feel the coldness his flesh held and warm it with purely my own flesh. I knew I should hate him, that the constant torture he and other Slytherin pupils had succumbed me to should only fill my chest with bitterness, but it did not. Oh how I wish it did, but truly it did not. </em>
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  <em>Two boys sharing themselves within each other wasn't common, no in fact it was unheard of, an unspeakable act; two of the same gender should never lie with each other, but that didn't stop my reckless mind from imagining his lips. His rose-tinted lips, swollen from the force of my own, to fantasise them spitting out my name in pleasure, not hatred. My feelings were buried deep within the carefully built walls of my mind, casted to the darkness, stringed up in metal chains, treason the inner jury of my body had called out, and I agreed. I was a sinner, dripped in the reds of hell, I knew death wouldn't be kind, but still, I let my brain wander into these immoral situations. Yet I never thought they would become reality..</em>
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  <em>One night his jagged tongue hissed words into the air before me that I had heard countless times before; became friends with, accepted them for what they were. There was one difference though, he was closer this time, his face inches away from my own. I could taste the salty breath his mouth breathed out, I could feel the acrid coldness his body radiated with, and all I wanted to do was shut him up. </em>
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  <em>The insults had hit the space between us like fireworks, crackling and fizzing, but never dying out, and suddenly there wasn't a gap between our aching souls any longer. I didn't make the first move, no I'd forced myself into a frozen standing, but he had. Cygnus, the boy sculpted from the gods, spindled from pure gold into the display of a 6'3 handsome looker had, his fingers knotting themselves into my curly locks as he pressed deeper into the kiss. </em>
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  <em>After that time slowed, days dragged into minutes, and minutes dragged into seconds, and I couldn't have been happier. He and I, we explored each other, like our time together was a voyage, our bodies searching each other, slowly folding into one. It was as if we were held over an open flame, slowly melting into the depths of each other, and the feeling was sensational, a bust of sporadic colour among a darkened world. He was my colour, infact he grew to be my everything.</em>
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  <em>It was funny how two people sworn to enemies had found love within each other, and the raw vulnerability Cygnus showed didn't drive me away, but pulled me closer to him. In that moment, and still to this day, I wish I could've snatched up every ounce of his essence and slipped it inside me, because at least then, I would know that nothing could ever tear us apart. But it wasn't possible, and so I clung onto him, like an arm would a string, knowing one day it would snap, yet too caught up in the pretence of safety it gave.  </em>
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  <em>Everything was kept hushed, both of us sworn to utter secrecy, pinky's locked on a tight promise that neither would break, until now. I write because I have nothing left, I am slowly dying, Cygnus is already dead, and I know in demise, we will never reunite. Maybe because I am going to hell, or wherever wizards go after life, or maybe because my fading heart cannot forgive him, even in old age. The wounds are still fresh, razor sharp, and no matter how hard I try to heal them, they never scab, they never rot, they just bleed and bleed and never stop bleeding. I'm used to the endless stream of blood, it has became part of me, I do not mind it. </em>
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  <em>The summer of 1847, relentless heat had arose, sticking itself onto every student with strength, leaving them in hot dazes, and while it proved to be quite the nuisance, I discarded it. I was leaving Hogwarts with a stable future ahead, a true chance at shaping my life into something with meaning, but even as I write in the current day, I realise that the only true thing that gave me meaning was he. </em>
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  <em>He who had been betrothed to a woman called Ella Max, and suddenly the idea of a stable life wasn't so grand, all I wanted was Cygnus Black. But I was a mudblood, and he had beliefs to uphold, a family to create, and so he left me. </em>
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  <em>I love you, I'd muttered to him in an abandoned hallway the night before we were set to leave school for good, my hand intertwined with his, clutching onto eachother, soaking in the last contact we would ever feel from one another. I could feel the sensation of iciness fade away from his skin as it slowly warmed to my temperature, and all I could think was, who would keep him warm after I? </em>
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  <em>His eyes were glossy, holding the beautiful ocean within them </em>
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  <em> a memory I would never let fade, naming each of my later children after the salty waves </em>
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  <em>, I love you too my sworn enemy he would then repeat, though the words came out croaky and full of pain, dissimilar to the usual fluent tone he'd been gifted with. His contact left mine, and he turned, he turned and never looked back. That was the last time I ever thought I'd see him, but I thought wrong. </em>
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  <em>Years later I took on a job with dragons, never looking back on my life with he as I married and became a father, only ever seeing those enchanting pupils as I stumbled into a bar late at night. Prudish, I know, but the weather upon Hogsmeade was ravenous, vicious rain pouring down onto my cold body with force and I needed shelter. Never did I imagine to see his face, in all its glory, sitting in the deserted pub, face buried deep within his hands. </em>
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  <em>We made another promise that night, one which would forever haunt me, placing a dark internal mark on my skin, dampening me with depression. We were going to run away together, engulf ourselves within the ethereal fantasy we painted in our youth, he and I planned it all in that small scruffy booth. We were going to take on the world together, atleast that was the plan, now I realise I was just a naive love-blinded fool. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Bags bundled in my hands, jammed with all the belongings I would ever need, the reckless boy I once was stood in a shadowed part of Hogsmeade, awaiting my lover, and he did come, think not this a story of being left behind, because its not. No I would've preferred that, because when Cygnus did finally appear, his hair was scruffy with bitter sweat and red marks circled his under eye area. He had been drinking, the stench of fire whiskey creeping from his dirty locks and scraggy clothes, it was obvious, that and the staggering posture he trailed over to me with. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I can't come with you, he'd mumble out, his hands were empty. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Why, I asked, I can still remember the sorrow knitted within my tone, the dejection my heart began to ache with. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I have a legacy to uphold, he said, the words were slurred, fairly undecipherable, but I managed to make them out of the wreckage before me. But then, the next phrase to leave his battered lips, the lips I had taken to kissing, to pressing my thumb up against, the ones which left small dentations on my body was truly vile. </em>
</p><p>
  
  <em>You're nothing more than a mudblood, he'd uttered, and while his sentences had been woozy before, this one came out clearly. I expected some remorse, a moment of shock where he covered his mouth, but that never came. He just stared on at me, the icy eyes I had made my muse snarling at me, drowning me in their oceanic waves, suffocating me. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I never spoke of the piece missing from our story, instead I fed my children lies on why we hated the Blacks, and they followed along because children will believe anything their father says. My blood grew to hate that last name, as did I, and it appeared Cygnus used the same method I had, and that is the true underlying story of the bitter feud — yet neither of us, or so i'm told, mentioned blood-purity within our tainted words, leading me to believe a truly ludicrous feeling, maybe the man I loved with every shard of my frail heart regretted what he said?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I don't hate him anymore, resentment on a deathbed is selfish, soon I will be gone, and my sons will carry on spreading my message of hatred towards the lineage of Blacks. My youngest grandson has taken a worrying liken to blood-supremacy, and soon I fear he will only twist my story further from the truth. I have created a monster in the form of lies, and I can't control its growing power any longer, im afraid what will be of mine and Cygnus' fated tale by the time im dead. It will be wrong, and we deserve more than that.</em>
</p><p><b><em>WE DESERVE ALOT MORE THAN THAT.</em></b><br/>▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. when night emerged</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><b>—AS SHE TRAILED DEEPER </b><br/>into the forest, the option of turning back began to slip from her grasps, leaving her without any idea on where to turn next. The trees surrounding Marella were now cloaked in white velvet, and while she could drag her hand across their trunks, taking in the crinkles of their wooden body, they remained silent, unable to navigate her to safety.</p><p>  The coldness had reached her skin, thus her battered jacket was presumed useless, and while she picked up her pace, boots hitting the ground with sustainable force, the night air was faster, wicking her heat away quicker than her body could replace it. The brittle breeze hurled itself under Marella's clothes, weaving its way through the layers she had slipped on, and soon she was left with no choice but to close her eyelids in order to block out the salty sting.</p><p>The air appeared to be so chilled it hurt to breathe, and as the girl finally pulled herself to an abrupt halt, hands clutching onto a nearby tree for support, she only longed to be indoors.</p><p>   Time was coming slowly, each minute dragging itself on, and the hopes of the fog clearing up became an impossible dream. But just as she thought it couldn't get any worse, a bellowing howl fizzled into the air with force, proving her statement very false.</p><p>   Marella's eyes jolted open, though they shouldn't of bothered as they were merely greeted with the familiar cloud, so she acted swiftly, survival instincts kicking in as she pulled her limbs behind the tree. The girls body began to shake, whether it was due to a questionable beast nearby or the coldness , she did not know, nor did she care. Now the only thought in her mind was to stay safe, to stay alive, though the future was uncertain, and she didn't know what she was going to be greeted by.</p><p>Her hands scavenged the dirt floor beneath her, searching for some weapon she could use in defence, but Marella was only greeted with heaps of brown soil, leaving her palms dirty and weaponless. "Fuck." she breathed under her breath, back now pressed up against the body of the tree as she played the part of a statue, forcing her frame into utter stillness. The piercing cries of the beast grew closer, and within a short span of time, she was able to taste them on the tip of her tongue. Marella cursed herself silently for not bringing her wand, though it didn't matter anymore, really, nothing did.</p><p>The roars grew louder, hitting the air powerfully, as it hunted for the smell of flesh Marella carried. She knew she didn't have any longer, if the girl were to stay in the same position, the unknown creature would soon be able to sense her, so she let out an exhale, before removing herself from the tree, breaking into a sporadic sprint. Her feet crushed the earth, suffocating it under her boot, as she attempted to bolt from the forest, but that wouldn't prove to be easy.</p><p>   The ashy air didn't want to tear, and the vulnerable injuries her body was subject to held her back. Marella was running for her life, and yet she knew she wouldn't make it, death was too fast, too <em>damn</em> strong.</p><p>Branches nearby began to scrape shallow scratches into her skin, a feeble attempt at stopping the girl in her tracks, though she didn't pause, not now. The clock slowed, and every heartbeat, every puffed breath was heightened, just as the growls from behind were louder. It wasn't just her running anymore, <em>no</em>, she was being chased. All it took was one claw digging into her arm, finally within reach to grab her, to alter the girls life significantly. And as she was pulled to the ground, body meeting the force of a damp floor, did her worst nighmares come true.</p><p>Before the Ravenclaw's eyes was a towering Werewolf, with wiry black hairs and a vicious snarl upon his beastly face, she could only thus let out a large scream. A variety of small woodland animals were situated to his sides, their own paws attempting to pry him away, but the beast was set on the meat before him, eager to taste Marella as if she was a dish of food.</p><p>   Pointed yellow teeth then sunk into the girls arm, tearing away the top layer of flesh before it was finally pulled away by a black dog, who'd latched itself onto the werewolf. With that, she didn't question the humanistic traits of the creatures, instead she pulled herself up and ran. Though she didn't get too far before she plummeted back down into murky soil, passing out from the deep wound.</p><p>   The world caved black, and every sense <b><em>(</em></b> touch, taste, smell <b><em>)</em></b> left her alone with the darkness.</p><p> </p><p>𐐪𐑂<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>—<b>WHEN HER DREARY EYES</b><br/>finally peeled awake, sockets hanging heavy with fatigue, Marella found herself in a room of white. For a moment she assumed this was death, that her limbs had finally caved in completely, and she was thus succumbed to demise, this was before her pupils then revved into action, revealing the area in finer detail. A grimy bandage was wrapped around her left arm, though thick metallic blood had began to seep through its sheer material, and to her side was a boy.</p><p>   His face was covered with fresh scars, and tears had began to cascade down these wounds, shaking with crippling guilt. Marella twisted her head to the side, tugging her figure into a sitting position before she finally spoke.</p><p>   "Remus, wh-what happened?" she asked, yet she could still remember the previously night vividly. "Don't tell me..." the girl shook her head frantically as she unraveled the bandage, to which the answer stared back up at her, a gruesome bite mark responding to her silently, yet <em>so </em>viciously.</p><p>"Marella, im so sorry.'" Remus cried out, fresh rivulets rising in his eyes. "<em>Merlin</em>, I'm sorry." his voice was filled with berserk, cracking when the apology escaped his lips, as if the word itself wasn't enough, and truthfully it wasnt. <em>Im sorry</em> wouldn't heal the infection, <em>I'm sorry</em> wouldn't change what happened, infact <em>nothing</em> could.</p><p>The girl diverted her eyes from the mark, and to Remus, eyes widening. "You were the werewolf." she said slowly, hoping it wasn't true, that the boy she'd known for years hadn't just cursed her with an incurable disease. But instead of laughing, instead of reassuring Marella it was all just one sick joke, he merely nodded.</p><p>  Remus' hands were bundled together on his lap, with crispy burn marks dinting his knuckles, ones only a lighter could've caused. "You didn't." although everything hurt, she scrambled herself closer to him, taking her hands in his. "Please tell me you didn't do this to yourself."</p><p>"I-I felt so guilty, y-youre..." he was stopped as she pulled him into a tightening hug, "No.." he tried to fight off the girls affection, though his attempt failed as she only tightened her grip. "Stop..you need to hate me." he uttered into her shoulder, his voice muffled by her embrace.</p><p>"I'm not in the right state of mind to do this, Remus." Marella shook her head as she finally pulled away, "It would be fucking easier if I did hate you, but it would— i don't know." she sighed deeply before diverting her eyes to the blatant wall, thinking through her words — as if that might make the current situation easier. "I don't hate you." she added lowly, telling the utter truth through a timid voice.</p><p>"I'm a monster Marella." he shouted back, "I'm a <em>god-damn </em>monster, don't you understand that?" his face boiled crimson as more tears fell down his trembling cheeks, his speech sinking into the air, carving its way into both of the two's memories permanently. The girl only looked up.</p><p>  "If you're a monster, then so am I." she muttered back, and while there was no remorse upon her profile, she could feel it creep over her internally. She <em>was</em> a monster now.</p><p>"I caused it, you—<em>oh merlin </em>your family," the Lupin pulled himself up, pacing back and forth. "They're going to hate you." he couldn't bare the truth, knowing they may turn their backs on her now, and all because of him.</p><p>"Bit late." she snickered before letting out a lengthy exhale, "I don't resent you for what happened last night, I need time. Okay? This is all <em>so</em> much, and I just...I <em>need</em> to be alone."</p><p>Remus nodded, "I'm really sorry Mars, this isn't what you deserve." his face was laced with tiredness, and he appeared to be in a worse state than Marella, but he still found the strength to stagger out of the Infirmary, shoulders slumped lowly. Once he was gone, she buried her aghast face into the palms of her hands, letting out one singular cry. It penetrated itself against the walls of the castle, ricocheting like a loud echo.<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>𐐪𐑂<br/><br/><br/></p><p> </p><p><b>—IT MUST'VE BEEN LATE </b><br/>when Marella found herself in a better state of mind, though she could only thank Madam Pomfrey for this, who'd sat beside her bed, stroking away the tears as she carefully mended her wounds, slowly nursing her back into full awareness. The woman told her it would all be okay, that it was nothing she couldn't handle, but Marella was unsure. She'd struggled to withstand the constant abuse of her family, but with the added pressure of lycanthropy, the Ravenclaw was unsure <em>if </em>she could truly cope.</p><p>  It was as if her head had been dunked into a bucket of icy water, forced to drown slowly, and while she screamed in desperation for help, nobody came, because nobody could hear her suffocating.</p><p>Dumbledore wanted to talk to her, but first the girl needed to see her friends, longing for the company of the people who felt like home. They'd attempted to visit  the hospital wing earlier, yet they didn't get far before they'd been hurried out by Poppy, who didn't falter this time, turning her back on a pleading Bridget instantly.</p><p>  She wasn't going to tell them about what happened, she wasn't sure what lie she'd conjure up, but Marella wasn't ready. Remus knew, as she assumed the rest of the marauders did <b><em>(</em></b> already piecing together they were the animals <b><em>)</em></b>, but she couldn't bare anyone else to know. She couldn't bare the pity which would thus drip from their faces, the empty, meaningless dialogue of sorrow.</p><p>But as she finally reached them, everything came crashing down, like a bundle of clouds holding onto heaps of rain, everything had to pour out eventually, and the weight of being a Werewolf was too much to hold onto.</p><p>  All it took was a picture of their faces, all sprawled out across a library sofa: Oscar's feet were kicked up onto the lap of Bridget's, the both of them attempting to study for an upcoming Potions exam, Adara was opposite, sending them stern glances as she took in the information, though everyone knew she didn't need to repeat the notes — for she was exceptionally smart. Regulus was with them too, his hands brushing through his overgrown hair as he read a lower-level book of Transfigurations, his expression scrunching whenever he didn't understand something.</p><p>"Mar—" Oscar turned to her, but he couldn't finish his sentence because she'd collapsed, just as she did the prior night, crashing into the hardness of a wooden floor, a tearful sob escaping her mouth. <em>Fuck</em>, she hated crying.</p><p>   "Marella!" he finally found the courage to finish his sentence, yet this time it wasn't laced with relief but worry as they all discarded their work, instantly joining her side. The four didn't care for the racket, because they were the only ones situated in the library — everyone else in the hall, too busy eating their dinner to care about the mediocre problems of a shattered teenager.</p><p>The next phrase just slipped out of her mouth with ease, as if she wasn't scared to say it, which couldn't of been anymore false "I'm a Werewolf." she sobbed into the arms of her friends, crumbling into a scattered pile of broken pieces, desperate to be fixed.</p><p>   All it took was comfort, the consolation she'd desperately wanted to avoid to fix her, and while Marella didn't think she would actually get it, she was wrong. Nobody pulled away, nobody looked down at her with repulse, they all just sat there on the floor, stroking and easing her into alertness.</p><p>  Madam Pomfrey hadn't been able to fully heal her, she would never be truly healthy again, but the support of the people around her, even those who hadn't known her for long, was all she needed to get by. And for once in her life, something had went right, because the universe sent her a crack of light amongst the thickening blackness, a ray of sunshine which managed to give her enough strength to finally pull herself up, not only from the floor of the library, but from the inner void she'd been sinking in for years.</p><p>"What happened?" Bridget said through the silence, this was after they had returned to the sofa, though their moods were now dampened, struggling to find the right words to say to Marella — even Oscar was left speechless.</p><p>"Last night, I was bit by one in the forbidden forest." she choked out, and while the raw truth was out of the bag, she wasn't going to tell them about who'd actually inflicted this condition on her. Because it wasn't hers to tell, so she played it off with a minor lie. "I don't know who it was, just one which I assume lived in the forest."</p><p>"If any of you look at her any different," Oscar then practically yelled, showing a side Marella had never seen before, one smothered in hot fury. One Marella herself was subject to. "then get the fuck out." But nobody did, instead they all stayed in their spots, looking on at Marella.</p><p>"I need to speak with Dumbledore." Marella blurted out, pulling herself back up, now yearning to escape the stuffy room before her.</p><p>   Regulus looked up, quickly discarding the book he had been fiddling with nervously. "I'll walk you." he said as he jogged to her side, to which she only mouthed the word <em>okay</em> before breaking into a slow pace.</p><p>   Once they'd met the end of the library, eyes able to make out a long corridor ahead, she spoke once more. But now her voice was clearer, having gained back the confidence she'd forced herself to own years prior, "Do you look at me any different? I wouldn't be mad if you did, Reggie, because truthfully I do."</p><p>The boy pondered over the question, running it through his mind as if he was testing himself on whether or not he truly did see her any different. "Not really, you're still you Marella."</p><p>"Except now I'm going to transform into some beast every full moon."</p><p>"So what?" he shrugged, "I used to hate Werewolves purely because my parents did, just as I used to see muggleborns as lesser than me, but at the end of the day, we all bleed the same blood. Mars, you don't need to worry about me seeing you any different, because I hardly know enough about you to perceive you a certain way in the first place."</p><p>"Do you still want to be friends with me, though?"</p><p>"You were the girl who came into the compartment yesterday, who saw a distraught boy your family had told you to stay away from, and still comforted him. So today, in return, just as I look on and see a girl who now holds an infection I've been told to fear, I'm going to comfort her."</p><p>  "She must be a damn lucky girl then." Marella sarcastically laughed, nudging Regulus' side with her shoulder, to which he only rolled his eyes.</p><p>   "You could say that." he responded, eyebrows raising slightly.</p><p>"I can't go back home now." the girl sighed out, to which the boy next to her only nodded his head:</p><p>   "Me either."</p><p>"Lets just get a place far away from here, and live out our days in total isolation from this fucked up world." she then fantasised as they strolled through the desolated hallway.</p><p>Regulus let out a comic gasp, "We're going so fast! I don't even know your middle name."</p><p>"Wow, some friend you are, and to think I was going to allow you to have the bigger bedroom." she shook her head, then quickening her stroll; legs jolting into action.</p><p>  Regulus mumbled a quiet<em> really </em>before running after her. "No! Wait, I'm sorry. I take it all back, I'll move in with you." he called out dramatically, going along with the dream she had, though Marella didn't have time to respond as she brought her feet to a stop.</p><p>   From the bend of another corridor had came Sirius Black, who only slowed when his eyes brought him into awareness of another two. Preferably any other day, he would've made a snarky comment at the two figures who he resented the most, but this certain day, he actually needed to speak to one, and the other had just said he was going to leave Grimmauld place.</p><p>"You're leaving?" Sirius said with surprise, pupils latching onto his younger brother — the brother he had gotten into a heated argument with the previous day.</p><p>"I was joking." Regulus stiffened at sight of his sibling, "But m-maybe." if it hadnt been for Marella, the boy was certain he wouldve only fallen back into the clutches of his former friends, possibly transforming fully into the figure his parents sought him to be.</p><p>   Yet things were beginning to change, and all it took was the inner kindness of one girl on the train to truly mould his life in a different direction, a better one.</p><p>   All it took was a little good to alter fate.</p><p>Sirius' mouth beamed a giant grin, discarding the hostility he had succumb his brother to for years as he pulled him into a quick hug, whispering <em>I'm proud of you </em>into the younger boys ears.</p><p>  What the older Black didn't realise was the phrase he'd just spoken would hang heavy in Regulus' chest, true happiness sprouting within his lower, <em>darker</em>, pits of stomach. The younger boy was constantly at war with his mind, inflicting inner pain on himself due to the strain he had forced his head through. Obsessing over each choice he'd made, unable to decipher whether or not they'd been morally right. But this one, deciding to leave Grimmauld place, held no regret over him, in fact he was <em>sure</em> this was what he wanted to do, not only for Sirius' validation, but for his own.</p><p>Sirius then turned his attention solely onto the other student present, Marella. "Er can I speak to you in private?" he asked, his tone gentler than usual, especially at a comment directed towards the Ravenclaw he was known to hate.</p><p>  Regulus looked over at her, as if he was waiting to hear her answer, ready to intervene if necessary, but Marella didn't need help. Whether this was just another stunt or not, she could take him on, because in the grand scheme of things, Sirius Black wasn't her biggest issue.</p><p>  So she let out a shrug, accompanied with a vague reply. "Sure, ill see you later Reggie." so with that, the Slytherin took note to depart from the scene.</p><p>"Whats up, <em>padfoot? </em>" Marella raised her eyebrows at the boy infront, spitting out his personal nickname slower than the rest of the sentence.</p><p>"Not much moony 2.0," he said quickly in retaliation before letting his face drop, realisation hitting him once more, now there were two werewolves — two people forced into cruel pain. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, a tone Marella wasn't used to — not from <em>his</em> mouth.</p><p>Marella pressed her lips together, gathering an answer to the impossible question. "Not really, but I will be." she replied before adding a quiet <em>hopefully</em> onto the end.</p><p>"Look, I know things aren't great between us, I haven't forgotten about that, but..im here for you." his voice was gentle, revealing a side of Sirius she had never seen before, and every emotion she had felt during the Astronomy Tower came flooding back to her, the <em>good</em> ones.</p><p>"Thankyou," her eyes fixated on everything but his overwhelming gaze, but as she finally released the tight strain her shoulders had been subjected to, the girls eyes met his. "And thank you for trying to stop Remus that night, I know you were the dog."</p><p>Sirius forced his mouth gape, eyes widening. "How did you know?" he declared with false shock, before letting out a small chuckle, "Didn't really make a difference though, damage had been done."</p><p>   "Not your fault, just as its not his." she said with a smile full of subtle charm, one the boy couldn't help but glance down at, gaiety conveying through his body due to her light-hearted state.</p><p>   Though his eyebrow then quirked. "I feel like you should be madder." he observed curiously.</p><p>"I'm not mad because its no ones fault but mine, I should've been wandering through the bloody forest at that time. But I can assure you I've had my fair share of other emotions involving my—"</p><p>"—furry little problem?"</p><p>The girl snickered, "Yes, my furry little problem."</p><p>"So what are you going to do, regarding...your furry little problem?" The Gryffindor queried her, head slightly tilted.</p><p>"I'm not sure, that's why I'm here, I've been called up to Dumbledores."</p><p>"Well I'm sure we can squeeze you into our full-moon gang, it might be tight, but I'm sure you can fit." he teased with a smug grin.</p><p>Marella took a step closer, pupils dilating as they stared at Sirius', "Careful padfoot, you're starting to go soft on me." to which he grinned slyly before uttering out "<em>Never</em>".</p><p>As Marella left, he couldn't help but let the worry overcome him, knowing the false sense of stability she had pushed herself into would fade soon. Sirius Black knew the Ravenclaw was one blow away from a mental breakdown, not yet fully processing the news of her infection, and this concerned him deeply. She was a spitfire, a blazing ball of unpredictability, and he dared not know what she may become when the truth <em>finally</em> hit her. But he did know one thing, it wasn't going to be pretty. </p><p> </p><p>𐐪𐑂<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p><b>—DUMBLEDORE'S OFFICE WAS JUST </b>as she remembered it from her first year at Hogwarts, with piles of ancient books, slowly gathering dust in stacked masses, and an arched structure towering over the desk situated between it. She sat in the seat he'd laid out for her, just as she did during the first day of her fourth year, though things were remarkably different now, Marella was different now. She was a werewolf.</p><p>Dumbledore finally broke his trance from the novel he'd been reading, flickering eyes peering down at the Ravenclaw as a pleasant smile erupted from his lips. "Welcome back Miss Bardot, I see we have a lot to talk about."</p><p>"It seems like it." Marella responded unenthusiastically, arms crossing themselves around her upper body, though she didnt do this out of fear, but due to the brittle draft twirling its coldness around her, spiking back fresh memories of the previous night, when she'd been within the icy forest — when she'd been infected.</p><p>"I am deeply saddened to hear about the condition you hold, and while Mr Lupin did infect you, I need you to understand that this was only a misfortunate series of events. I have discussed with him how important it was to remain within the area instructed for him during the moons reign, so you needn't worry about this occurring to another student. However he will not be punished any further than that, do you understand?"</p><p>Marella looked around the room, "Why wouldn't I understand? It was hardly Remus' fault?" she answered bluntly, leaving the man facing her to gradually turn paler, not expecting this reaction from the girl. He had presumed she would be distraught, possibly disgusted by herself due to her pureblooded upbringing, but was very wrong to see her <em>so</em>...unbothered?</p><p>"Very well Miss Bardot," he responded slowly, his arms laid themselves out on the table, resting intertwined with each other. "During a full moon, you are to stay with Mr Lupin, he will guide you down towards the Whomping Willow, where you'll be able to twist a knot, thus immobilising the tree. You will spend the night contained there, and the following morning will be granted absence from class to get any leftover wounds healed down at the Infirmary."</p><p>"Okay." she said plainly, giving the headteacher no indication of the emotions she was feeling in regards to lycanthropy, which had been her initial plan. While she was definitely fretting about the future, and how the disease would rupture her life, she didn't let the man infront know this, concealing it due to the hunch she had towards Dumbledore — she didn't trust this man.</p><p>"Now I was given word by Flitwich that you wanted to discuss matters involving other houses. What seems to be the problem there, Ms Bardot?" he quickly switched topics, as if everything they'd just discussed was nothing, when it was <em>everything</em>.</p><p>As Marella sat in the chair now, the topic she'd been fired up about before winter break felt insignificant, because truthfully, it was.  In retrospect to the events she'd been endured through, the torment of the marauders and blood-prejudice was nothing. "I just think you need to keep your eye on certain students, I wouldn't be surprised if you already had death eaters at this school." she finally responded, and while she'd planned what to say for weeks on end, it just didn't matter to her anymore.</p><p>"I can assure you that I am going to great lengths to keep this school and its inhabitants safe, and while there could possibly be students taking a darker route, only they can decide if it is worth it."</p><p>"Aren't you meant to be the headmaster, you should be guiding these kids to make the right decisions."</p><p>"There are no right decisions, Ms Bardot." was all Dumbledore could respond, and Marella found herself unable to press further, her face careless to the professors lousy answers. So she just shrugged, one empty action in response. </p><p>𐐪𐑂<br/><br/></p><p><b>—ONCE MARELLA HAD BEEN</b><br/>dismissed from the office, she trudged back to her room silently, switching her battered clothes for a loose pair of pyjamas, as she then slipped into bed. Once her frail body hit the duvet, she was succumb to sleep, and for once her panning mind didn't get in the way of her rest, because in honesty, she was too drained to allow a single thought into erupting.</p><p>Marella deemed the last twenty-four hours to be the worst moments of her entire life, but what she didn't know was that the wizarding community was on the brink of war, and existence would only become worse as the clocks moved on. Everything was beginning to change.<br/>▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. bitter perspectives</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><b>—MARELLA'S BODY SHOT UPRIGHT</b>, jolting into a sitting position suddenly as she let out a deep gasp. Her skin was etched with sweat, drenching her flimsy top, and her heart had began to pound roughly, thumping against the inner structure of her chest. She couldn't recall a trigger that had forced her into this situation, but nevertheless she pulled herself up, panting breathlessly.</p><p>  As she attempted to press her feet onto the ground, she almost collapsed from the sudden frailness of her limbs, and if she hadn't instinctively clutched onto her bedside table, she may of became a permanent resident to the cold, hard floor.</p><p>Her hand <b><em>( </em></b>pressed up against the table <b><em>) </em></b>began to shake uncontrollably, a hurricane gyrating inside her as she slowly shuffled to the bathroom. Once the door was bolted, and a silencer had been casted did she finally let her body fall. The icy tiles of the ground stuck against her sweltering flesh, though the girl was hardly worried about that, far too concentrated on her shaken ribs, which were heaving as if they were bound by ropes, straining to inflate her lungs.</p><p>       Marella tried to keep her mind solely on the organs in her chest, but thoughts were beginning to boil, spinning circles within her head. She wanted everything to slow down, for the world around her to momentarily freeze, because she couldn't keep up, she was falling behind, thus being left by her own body. Her breath caught in her chest, as if her interior had stumbled and was now caught in a long and restricting chain, holding her back from exhaling, stopping her from preforming the basic necessities she needed to survive.</p><p>Marella's nails dug into the skin of her inner fingers, burrowing further and further until she was white-knuckled and seeing blood, until she had created intense holes within herself. Time had slowed but the world continued to pan at an impossible speed, and the whiplash was too strong, making the girl bundle herself up into a small ball on the ground in order to not blow away, to escape the hurricane, but she couldn't hold on any longer, it was too hard, too draining.</p><p>At first her mind was just a scramble of words and phrases, from blood-traitor to the long sentences her mother had screamed at her, but then everything intensified. Memories began to flood the surface, roughly hurling Marella through the timeline of her life. Tears flooded down her cheeks when she was taken back to the usual destination, the one that had activated her diagnosis of panic-attacks years prior, but where it usually ended, when the burning house had finally crisped into ashes, her brain didn't stop, continuing on.</p><p>  Suddenly the Ravenclaw was in the forest, running for her life, trying to escape the grasps of an infection, but just like real life, she failed — face planting the soil where a large chunk of her skin was then teared open. But the werewolf before her wasn't beastly, it's face only mirroring her own. She was <em>it</em>.</p><p>"Marella!" Bridget called out in concernment, rushing to the girls side, who was now sprawled out across the bathroom floor, eyes shut, shaking intensely. "Oh my god, are you okay?" she added with panic, pulling her friends head onto her lap, but the question deemed idiotic, because the answer was obvious.</p><p>Marella's lids opened at the sudden movement, letting out a groggy moan before looking up at Bridget, pupils doused in red — bloodshot to ones view. "I'm okay, panic attack I think." she responded after a moment of silence, where she had taken to recalling the previous night — catching back her breath.</p><p>"You should take the day off," Bridget said quietly as she brushed loose strands of Marella's hair away from her face, but when she was met with a scoil, she sighed out a reasonable offer "Atleast take a cold shower?"</p><p>Marella nodded feebly, pulling herself into a stable standing, hand clutching onto a towel rack — incase she took a fall once more.  "How did you even get in here?" she then asked, eyes narrowing.</p><p>Bridget stretched out her arms, still stiff from a nights sleep, "I needed to piss, the door was locked, I thought you'd died in here." she joked, though her mouth began to drop, loosing its cheerful smile. "I thought you might've done something to yourself." at that Marella parted her lips, unable to find the right words to say in reply, though she needn't of bothered,</p><p>   "—But it doesn't matter, you're fine...youre fine." Bridget frantically said as she pulled herself up, cupping the girls face in her palms as she observed Marella's outer-layer of skin.</p><p>"I am fine." she reassured her friend.</p><p>"Good."</p><p>As Marella quickly piled her utilities for the showers in a tote bag, she couldn't help but feel a gaze burn against her back, and as she flickered her head to face the culprit, the girl was thrown off guard to see Adara, now displaying a sickening snarl upon her pretty face.</p><p>  Her eyes briefly scanned the scenery, confused before letting out a disgruntled "What? Do I have something on my face?" whilst the question came out hostile, Marella had been telling the truth, unable to find a logical reason as to why she would be receiving such looks from Adara.</p><p>"Except from those ugly scars, <em>no</em>." Adara spat bitterly, face edging with tightness, catching both girls off guard. At that, Bridget took a step closer to Marella, both of their attentions completely drawn to the current situation now.</p><p>  The Bardot wasn't sure if Bridget had shifted nearer in defence or in attempt to contain Marella — knowing her track record with insults was fairly vicious.</p><p>"Excuse me? What is your problem?" Marella fired back quickly, hands crawling into a fist at the side of her waist. She was trying to hold her tongue back, praying there was a rational reason for her friends discourtesy.</p><p>Adara scoffed, as if the answer was obvious, as if there was a sustainable reason for her reaction. "You're a werewolf." she said, disgust laced within her voice, showing a side Marella had never seen before, a hateful, vile one.</p><p>"No shit Sherlock." the girl uttered in retaliation, disguising the hurt which had begun to form in her chest <b><em>( </em></b>taken back at the comment <b><em>)</em></b>z</p><p>"You didn't seem to have an issue with it last night, whats wrong?" Bridget said challengingly, jaw tensing with anger, "...woke up on the wrong side of the bed?"</p><p>"Appears so." Marella breathed out, fury taking over the hurt, turning her insides red. "Well come on, we're waiting, whats the issue with me being a werewolf? Afraid im gonna eat you—"</p><p>"—<em>Please</em>, not even the hungriest werewolf would want to go near you." Bridget finished the sentence, shunning Adara into a deathly silence, her face flushing rose with embarrassment.</p><p>  The girl had been a fool to take on Bridget and Marella together. And with Oscar in no sights to steady them, Adara seemed to be one step away from embarrassment. Waiting to be ripped into minuscule shreds of nothing. Mentally....of course?</p><p>"Oh look she's gone mute." Marella snickered, to which Bridget hummed <em>what a shame</em> loud enough to snap Adara back into alertness.</p><p>"Shutup <em>mudblood</em>." Adara shook her head, eyes bulging as she tried to keep her calm, though she would completely discard this action a moment later — when Marella drew her wand.</p><p>  The Bardot made a swing for Adara: left hand clutching the Adara's wrist as her other bulged a wand into her neck. "What the fuck did you just say?" Marella pressed her face up against Adara's, voice coming out in a whisper, though a particularly vicious one.</p><p>"A...mudblood." Adara squirmed, causing Marella to let out a cold laugh, lips trailing to Adara's ears as her own grip tightened, blocking the blood circulation in the opposing girls arm — area shadowing a nasty, scarring mahogany.</p><p>"You better watch your mouth, I am not in the mood for this shit." her wand dug into the flesh deeper,one jab away from splinting the area in two.</p><p>Adara struggled to talk, but yet she still persisted, her confidence becoming too sturdy, too fluent, could she not see the raging figure before her, who was one snap away from doing severe damage? "I think you should watch your own." she choked out, a weak threat which fired off Marella with little damage.</p><p>"Such a pretty face," Marella drew her wand from Adara's throat, to which the Ravenclaw let out a desperate breath of air, spluttering a series of coughs, though it only then travelled to her cheek in response, prodding her skin comically. "shame your insides are rotten." the Bardot then spat into her ear, soundwaves travelling right through Adara's body at a rapid speed, sinking her into an internal pile of mush.</p><p>   At that, she finally let go, leaving the girl physically unharmed, but mentally wounded. "Do not even look in the direction of me again, we're done. Find some new little friends to play prejudice with." once the startling warning hit the air between them, Marella tugged at a bewildered Bridget, pulling them both out of the room — making sure to slam the wooden door on departure, <em>just</em> for dramatic affect.</p><p>"Holy shit," Bridget breathed out loudly, "that turned me on."</p><p>Marella let out a loud laugh, pressing herself against the wall, head resting on the structure — tipped towards the ceiling. "Well Adara's a piece of shit." she then exhaled, anger still foaming inside her chest. She tried to focus on the plain roof.</p><p>"Appears so, im just glad Dumbledore got to us first, I'd hate her to have leverage against you."  Bridget said, mentioning the lecture the headteacher had given each student who knew about Marella's lycanthropy.</p><p>"She won't say anything," the girl deadpanned, to which Bridget opposite rolled her eyes, letting out a dramatic gasp:</p><p>   "Or what? You'll kill her?"</p><p>Marella pulled her head down, eyes latching onto Bridget's as she curved a mischievous smirk. "How'd you guess?" she then shook her toiletry bag, beginning to shuffle towards Oscar's room. Intention set on using his shower— so she needn't face Adara again before breakfast.</p><p>"You concern me!" Bridget shouted towards her friends back, receiving a "<em>then im doing my job right</em> " in return.  </p><p> </p><p>𐐪𐑂<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>—<b>IT HADN'T STRUCK EIGHT</b><br/>yet, and still, Marella felt furious. Burning anger. She recalled the fresh memory of her and Adara's squabble , and after a few minutes of annoyance boiling her insides, she physically had to stop in order to collect herself.</p><p>  But just as she did, her pupils found themselves fixated on her fingers, taking in the dentations she'd made last night. They were shaped crescent and burrowed deep within her skin, breaking away layers of battered flesh, merely leaving behind bloodstains and sharp stabbing pains.</p><p>  It appeared that Marella Bardot was completely falling apart, and she herself knew it.</p><p>"Hey boys!" she called out enthusiastically, barging into the room. The girl was already familiar with the inhabitants of Oscar's room <b><em>(</em></b> after having many heated arguments over "personal space" <b><em>)</em></b>.</p><p>   The four boys let out a groan at notice of her presence whilst Oscar discarded his extra-credit homework and ran to greet her with bubbling ardour. She wasn't sure if he was just glad to see her face or if he was plastering on a cheerful act in regards to everything she was going through, either way Marella didn't mind. She shot him a toothy smile before making way towards the bathroom.</p><p>"What? You can't seriously be letting her use our shower, I haven't had one yet!" one of the Ravenclaw boys called out loudly, arms folded as he sat on his bed like a vexed child.</p><p>Marella's face crumpled at the boy, though he couldn't see this cold expression due to her back turned, so she merely brought her finger up into the air, a gesture which was sternly noted — and seemed to shut up the hormonal teenagers.</p><p>Lukewarm drops fired out of the shower, grazing over each bump and bruise as they washed away the sweat she'd accumulated.</p><p>  While the girl wasn't dirty, she drew a breath of relief, feeling significantly cleaner, as if every piece of trauma had been lifted from her shoulders, now shuffling into the drains, out of sight.  Her tired eyes fell closed, sinking into ease as the blanket of warmth continued to seep down over her, continuously hitting against the cold tiled floors with a lull patter. </p><p>   Once the water had been turned off, and Marella was left with only the raspy air, she truly thought, clearer than ever before.</p><p>Marella found her brain a strange place, where bottled memories were stashed, holding too much significance to let go of, but too painful to recall. She knew keeping them huddled together in a mass was dangerous, for they came to bite during the worst hours, when she didn't want to remember the trauma each of these moments held, but still, they arose.</p><p>   Reminding her of their presence, and how unescapable they were. Because wherever Marella Bardot went, so did her past. There was no arguing with it, she could only make peace with the truth.</p><p>So the girl stood there, slightly shivering, as her mind started to absorb reality: she was a werewolf, she couldn't go home, and Adara was a complete bitch. The latter stung more than she'd wanted to let on, and whilst the girl wasn't someone she'd known for long, it still hurt. Adara's perspective on her was now truly tainted.</p><p>   She didn't know what had triggered the sudden change, why she had turned so abruptly sour, but whatever her problem was, Marella refused to accept it.</p><p>  At that conclusion, sick of thinking about  Ravenclaws, she stepped out of the shower, ready to face the day ahead — exhausted and unmotivated. <em>Some things never change</em>, she thus sighed to herself. </p><p> </p><p>𐐪𐑂<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>—<b>HAVING POTIONS FIRST THING</b><br/>on a Tuesday morning alongside Gryffindor was hardly the best way to start the new year, but still, Marella knew it could be worse. So she trudged towards the dungeons, hefty books pressed against her chest, reciting the early encounter with Adara to <b><em>(</em></b> an oblivious <b><em>)</em></b> Oscar, Bridget pitching in every few moments with a snarky comment.</p><p>  Whilst the words Adara said had slipped under her skin, she couldn't help but beam mid-sentence, because she still had her friends by her side. Although Marella was slowly falling apart, now at a quicker speed than ever before, the steady grips of her chosen family steadied her, and nothing seemed to drive them away, whether it be the offensive words of a so-called friend, or a werewolf bite, they'd made it fairly clear they weren't leaving.</p><p>   And being abandoned was scary.</p><p>"Sluggy appears to have changed the seating plan." Bridget said as they entered the classroom, to which Marella let out a sigh of relief, otherwise being forced to sit next to Adara.</p><p>"Took him long enough." Oscar sighed as they made their way to the front, where a floating piece of parchment displayed each pair in jet-black quill ink.</p><p>"Hey! Whats that supposed to mean?" Bridget said after a moment, processing the words of her <em>previous</em>-partner. Though the Ravenclaw boy only let out an innocent smile in response, a bland shrug escaping his shoulders as he steadied his eyes on the paper before him.</p><p>Marella blew a strand of hair away from her sight as she joined the congregation of students, colours clashing as they attempted to search for their name, yet once she was able to locate her own, all she could do was massage her temples, index finger jabbing into her forehead. "Bloody hell, I got James Potter."to the side of Marella, Bridget merely choke in laughter.</p><p>The Ravenclaw dropped her stack of books on the table with a bellowing clump, the exasperation plastered across her face clear to see, albeit she couldn't help in thinking the class <em>may</em> go slightly different. This was due to the deeper understanding she had of the marauders, and whilst she'd only spoken to two out of the four, she assumed the rest of them <em>also</em> felt the same.</p><p>  During a full moon, she was required to go with Remus, and she knew the boy belonged to a package deal.</p><p>It was only after the girl had taken her seat, back slumping in the chair with lack of posture, that the blaring quartet finally decided to enter.</p><p>   Sirius stood in the middle, his growing locks now tied in a loose bun, and to his either sides were a pitiful Remus and an energetic James, their moods contradicting each other greatly.</p><p>   Peter trailed along behind, though he didn't seem to care, too busy cradling a coffee in his palms, which Marella <em>already</em> assumed was cold — remembering how the Gryffindor enjoyed it that way. Slughorn sent a sideways glance at them, eyebrows quirking for a brief moment — debating on punishing them for tardiness —, ultimately deciding against it as he turned his attention back towards the glowing face of Lily Evans.</p><p>When James caught sight of his partner, everyone in the class seemed to become attentive, their bodies leaning forwards in anticipation; awaiting for the reaction of the boy, readying themselves for an early morning infused with bickering and arguing. Yet they were proved wrong, with James only nodding as he took a seat next to Marella. Mutterings slipped the air, hushed voices suddenly conversing with each other, utterly muddled at the Potters reaction, or more so at his <em>lack </em>of reaction.</p><p>James looked at Marella, softness laced within his expression, "You okay?" he asked, and while the question was an average one, something most would hear on the daily, the girl immediately knew of its undertones.</p><p>"I'm not sure." she breathed out a reply, fumbling with the quill in her hands — a distraction to conceal the awkward tension —. It felt strange to be talking to the boy in a normal manner,  reminding her of old times. A wave of nostalgia washed over her, taking the girl back to the start of fourth year. When all was good.</p><p>"Thats understandable," he said genuinely, "I just wanted to say....<em>well</em> I admire the way you're handling the situation. I at least expected Remus' hair to be set on fire by now."</p><p>   A shared laugh escaped the pair, and while she did enjoy the squabbles she'd came to expect from the boy, she much preferred this gentler side of him, one she'd never really seen before.'But Marella was still unsettled by the conversation topic, feeling lost about her own lycanthropy, as if she wasn't holding the infection at all, but just another ordinary student in the mix of things. But that wasn't the case anymore, and both she and James knew it.</p><p>Once he noticed the growing dismay Marella radiated, he shifted his chair closer, acting protectively. "You're always welcome..scratch that, you're <em>coming</em> with us on a full moon, no obligations allowed." he said lowly, making sure his voice wasn't heard by students, though there was a certain sternness present in his tone.</p><p>Marella parted her chapped lips; instinctively wanting to turn down his offer, when she knew in truth, she didn't have much of a choice. The Ravenclaw had grappled with the concept of vulnerably for years, her mothers words polluting her mind into believing the only person she could rely on was herself. But as Marella looked at the sympathetic boy, who's raised eyebrow challenged her to say no, she finally nodded. "Okay, thank you."</p><p>James sent her a closed lip smile, "Good." brief silence occurred, where both of their eyes seemed to drift towards Remus, who was diagonal to them — face devoid of any colour. The boy sat with his head slumped in the palms of his hands, and whilst his arm did a sustainable job of supporting him, he looked one movement away from falling into a tired mess of jumbled limbs.</p><p>   His hair was now scraggy, seemingly unkept, and whilst she assumed he was still tired from the moon, guilt appeared to be the main source of his messy state.</p><p>"When he first bit you, I kept thinking to myself that this was going to be the death of him, that there was no way he'd be able to move forwards." James uttered to Marella as they continued to observe the Lupin. "I was so scared for him, but also, for you." when the phrase hit the air, Marella quickly turned to James, face crumpling in shock.</p><p>   "—I know shit has went down between us, and I've been just as much to blame, if not <em>more</em> for what occurred," he continued, stealing the full attention of the Ravenclaw, "but I <em>do</em> care about you, and I kept thinking to myself on what I could've done to prevent this, like maybe if I'd tugged him harder, or..I don't know." once he was finished, he seemed to be breathless, and regret had started to eat away at his expression — leaving him to look at her with culpability, as if he'd caused the infection.</p><p>"James.." she muttered softly, his name felt weird on her lips <b><em>( </em></b>being so long since it'd been used <b><em>) </em></b>nevertheless, she persisted, "If we're pointing blame here, its my fault. I shouldn't have been in the forest, and whilst it was stupid of me, im trying not to dwell on it...<em>merlin</em> knows I've got enough on my plate already."</p><p>"Alright..yeah, okay." he breathed out, dragging his left hand through the body of his hair.</p><p>"Old habits die hard."  Marella chuckled lightly as she watched him fondle over his locks, bringing herself to gently nudge his shoulder.</p><p>"Its soothing!" he called out in defence.</p><p>Oscar and Bridget, who'd been conveniently paired up for potions once more, sat in utter shock, their eyes widened and their mouths agape as the looked on at James Potter and <em>their</em> Marella Bardot, both of whom were now getting along.</p><p>   "They made contact!" Oscar declared loudly as he bent further forwards, trying to get a clearer look at the unlikely pair. Most children had also taken to discarding the lesson, like the two Ravenclaws, all of their pupils latching onto the same desk.</p><p>Bridget pinched herself, truly believing this was all a big, twisted dream her mind had succumbed her through, but when she didn't find herself awakening, and her skin only turned red, she was left with no choice but to accept what her eyes showed.</p><p>  "Maybe..." the Ravenclaw tried to come up with a logical excuse, but when her brain only presented her with emptiness, she judged the situation impossible to decipher. "Ah fuck it, there's no explanation for this." she finally admitted, left to lean onto Oscar's shoulders and humour the pair, creating drastic interpretations on why they were getting along. </p><p> </p><p>𐐪𐑂<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>—<b>IT WAS AFTER SLUGHORN</b><br/>had instructed the students to gather ingredients for a strengthening solution that Marella was left to stare widely at the complete set of marauders, who'd infiltrated her table with their bodies. "Guess this a group project." the girl snickered as she shook a vile of salamander blood, her eyes darting between each of the boys.</p><p>"We're ninety percent certain Prongs here is gonna fuck up the potion, and we've came to the mutual agreement that we're not gonna let you fail any classes, so get used to seeing us <em>Luna</em>." Sirius explained on their presence as he took the vile from her clutch and began to measure the precise amount needed, leaving Marella to blink in confusion. Her mind conversing on what part of the sentence she'd like to discuss first.</p><p>"Did you just call me Luna?" she asked before interrupting herself, speaking once more, "And wait...why aren't you letting me fail any classes?" there was a tinge of oblivion to her tone, which was understandable — in her own opinion.</p><p>"Yes Luna, like the moon. Come on, you didn't think we were gonna call you moony 2.0 forever, right?" he questioned as if it was blatantly obvious. "And responding to your second question, we all feel partially to blame for your... <em>infection</em>, so moving forwards we're going to stop you from self destructing. Which you will, eventually."</p><p>"Sirius.." Marella began to say before being interrupted by the boy once more</p><p>  —"Padfoot, its Padfoot to you." he instructed her to which she rolled her eyes, before continuing—</p><p>   "<em>Padfoot</em>, you don't need to feel guilty for what happened, I don't blame you."</p><p>"You should blame me." Remus muttered under his breath, receiving a stern glare from Marella, who was starting to get sick of <em>all</em> this guilt.</p><p>"You're practically an honouree marauder." Peter exclaimed with lack of enthusiasm, though he sent the girl a genuine smile, stirring the brewing potion infront of the four.</p><p>The Ravenclaw tilted her head, "A week ago you hated me!"</p><p>"Now now, no need to dwell on the past." James declared as he strung an arm over her shoulders, pulling her into his side. "You're one of us, and you can't escape it." he spoke dramatically, though this was a usual tone for the Potter.</p><p>"I—" Marella appeared hesitant, but as she caught the eye of Remus, who mouthed the singular word <em>please</em>, she dropped her shoulders, "Fine...but you're going to have to come up with an excuse on our sudden friendship for Bridget and Oscar."</p><p>"How much do they know?" Peter asked as he pulled himself onto the table infront, resting lazily against its structure.</p><p>"They know about my condition, but they don't know <em>moony</em> caused it."</p><p>Remus looked up, freezing on the spot, "You lied to them for me?"</p><p>Marella let out a distant<em> mhm</em> as she observed the potion, making sure it didn't turned a distasteful colour, though Remus' attention had been stolen. "How did they react?"</p><p>"Well it wasn't the most graceful situation," she snickered, dumping in the Griffin Claw Sirius had just powdered, "But their reactions weren't bad, well except from Adara, she turned out to have some sort of resentment towards it."</p><p>"How many people <em>actually</em> know?" James said as he finally removed his arm from Marella, making use of his limbs by continuously stirring the cauldron as she poured in the remaining ingredients.</p><p>"Bridget, Oscar, Adara and Reggie."</p><p>"Reggie knows?" Sirius spat out quickly, shock laced within his voice.</p><p>"He does," when Marella caught the look of worry plastered across the Blacks face she attached a sentence of comfort onto the end of her statement. "He doesn't care though."</p><p>That relived Sirius Black more than anyone would ever find out.<br/>▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃</p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0020"><h2>20. acidic moments of intoxication</h2></a>
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    <p>—<b>MARELLA BARDOT'S NAME WAS</b><br/>now plastered across Hogwarts, spread from lip to lip, repeated until it became engraved within the air, making itself a home inside each students mouth. By second lesson the news of her peaceful encounter with the marauders  <b><em>(</em></b> which proved to be a bigger scandal then when she <em>actually</em> did something <b><em>)</em></b> was common knowledge between all fifth years, and by lunch, the news had been spread across the whole school, taking up pupils interest with immensity.</p><p>While the marauders soaked in this glory, their egos expanding greatly, and their shoulder standing higher than usual, Marella did not feel the same way.</p><p>She, of course, loved the attention at first, but once the stares became obsessive glances, burning into her skin with intensity, and discourteous students had taken to disrupting her at any given moment, she started to become frustrated. And when last period finally rolled around, she was seeing blazing red. "I'm gonna kill these fuckers if they don't move." she shouted loudly, beginning to usher children out of the way with her hands.</p><p>The marauders walked at a steady distance behind, afraid they may face her wrath if they got too close. James was still in a state of dumbfounded shock after she'd blatantly hexed a first year for merely breathing near her, and Sirius couldn't help but speak out a terrifying fact as they made their way to lesson—"Just imagine her closer to the full moon."</p><p>At that comment alone, Remus turned ghastly pale, and James was ready to send himself up to the infirmary, while Peter could only let out an amused laugh. "What?" he said to the boys who's eyes had thus latched onto him, "I think its funny! She's entertaining."</p><p>"I think I saw Mulciber piss himself earlier because of her." Remus spoke through gritted teeth, and whilst the situation was hardly humorous, they all seemed to stifle out a laugh at the picture Lupin had just painted. "I'm being deadly serious!" he uttered, then grimacing.</p><p>"You're not Sirius!" James suddenly perked up, to which the long-haired boy consequently called out loudly—"I am!"</p><p>Whilst Bridget and Oscar had been desperate to find out the reason for her friendly encounter with the marauders <b><em>(</em></b> after an uncondensed year of resentment ), they instead, ended up biting their tongues for safety, afraid to provoke their hot-headed friend in the slightest, just incase it were to come backfiring down on them — as it had many times previously.</p><p>  They'd expected this mood, and prepared for it; but at a different trigger. Assuming it would've been from the  courtesy of Gryffindors well-known James Potter, <em>not</em> from the rumours involving her and a certain marauders...<em>contentment</em> of one another. In fact, during the Potions lesson, all of the infamous group had been over at her desk, and she talked to them — actually preformed a civilised conversation!</p><p>Now, as Marella sat in care of magical creatures, not one Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff appeared to have the guts to take the seat next to her. That was until a girl named Vixen decided to bite the bullet, swallowing her fear as she sat down near Marella quietly. Vixen Killinsworth was a slender, yellow-tied student, known for keeping herself within a small, tightly-knitted group of friends. Her umber skin merged well with her curly locks, which hung in an afro at her lower neck.</p><p>  She smiled widely, "Ignore them, they're idiots." her reassurance came out in a whisper, and through the haze of bombarding stares, she didn't seem to mind being whispered about.</p><p>"Thanks," Marella sighed as she dotted her parchment paper with little stars, trying to distract herself from both the glances of students and the boiling pit of anger brewing in her lower stomach.</p><p>Vixen nodded, beginning to draw little planets alongside the Ravenclaw's stars, both of them remaining silent for the rest of the lesson, but continuing to doodle on the paper until it was cluttered with astronomy symbols. Marella wasn't sure if it had been the Hufflepuffs intention, but the shared gesture between the two had cooled her down, and as she slumped her bag over her shoulders, she found herself ready to take on the intrusive kids at a much calmer standard.</p><p>"You okay..?" Oscar approached Marella carefully, taking a seat on the edge of his singular bed after classes were over. The girl had been camping out in his room, unable to find the energy to face Adara in her own. So they'd bathed in the silence for a gradual amount of time before he couldn't contain his worry any longer — desperate to know if his friend was <em>actually</em> okay, and if not, what he could do to help her.</p><p>"Yeah, im fine." she responded, giving Oscar the signal he could move closer, which he thus did — scampering over to her side, where he then positioned himself in a similar way to Marella, both of their heads instinctively resting against each other.</p><p>"So you're friends with the marauders?" the Ravenclaw boy asked as he shut his eyes, taking in the serenity of an empty dorm room.</p><p>"Something like that," she said as she too closed her eyes, burying the guilt of lying to him deep within her chest, "It needed to be solved, I hardly have time for grudges now." and while it wasn't exactly false, it still wasn't the real reason, and that burnt her insides. She didn't want to lie, but she didnt have much of a choice.</p><p>Oscar let out a puff of air, "You don't deserve this, Mars."</p><p>"It'll be okay...I think," she responded with lack of certainty, already knowing what the topic was before it had to be mentioned, "I <em>hope</em> it will."</p><p>"I know that you heard this the other night, but I feel you're entitled to hear it again, especially after Adara this morning, lycanthropy does not change anything about you, nor does it change my perspective of you." he softly comforted her, knowing the right words to say in order to mitigate the current situation. "I need you to remember that, and while I can't accompany you during a full moon, I <em>want</em> you to hold onto it."<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>𐐪𐑂<br/><br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>—<b>MARELLA KNEW WHAT WAS</b><br/>coming as she halted infront of the main hall's doors, and whilst she was definitely uncomfortable about the mass of attention she'd accumulated in the span of a few hours, she was hardly going to recoil, Bardot's <em>never</em> did that. So instead, just like any other time she had been made the centre of a rumour, she held her head high, confidence oozing out of her body as she strode through the area. But this time, instead of making way to the Ravenclaw table, she decided to feed into the students eagerness, blatantly ignoring her house table as she took a seat among red.</p><p>A seat she hadn't taken in a year, one which caused every student to drop their food, eyes bulging at her presence among the Gryffindors, but even more at the students she had chosen to sit near: The Marauders.</p><p>People really needed to get a life.</p><p>"Whats up boys?" she said boldly, her body slipping between a shocked James and Remus. On the other side of the bench, Peter merely let out an amused laugh, his attention staying on the coffee-stained newspaper before him. Sirius proved to be wary of her temper; eyes trailing along her face for any signs of anger, albeit any fury was either gone or disguised too well.</p><p>"This school is obsessed with you." Remus shook his head, a tight smile escaping his lips. When she looked at him, the irreversible glint of guilt still remained, but she was glad it was beginning to fade.</p><p>James had slowly fell into a daze upon Lily's appearance, only rejoining the conversation after Sirius threw a sandwich in the direction of his hair. "Not the locks!" the Gryffindor growled as he began to shuffle his scraggy hair back into place, breathlessly cursing in a low manner.</p><p>Marella could only laugh at the boys frantic movements, however her moment of happiness would be cut short when she caught the gaze of two Gryffindors. They were loudly conversing about her, and whilst pupils stayed glued to her barbed face, they were far too deep within their conversation to predict what would happen next.</p><p>A variety of vigorous hexes hit them in a smooth stride.</p><p>"You're evil." Sirius grinned, his eyebrows raising in mirth.</p><p>To which Marella pressed her hand against her heart, widening her mouth in fake shock—"And <em>you</em> hurt me."</p><p>"Anyways," Peter re-directed the conversation, sending Sirius a sharp glance whilst he propped down his newspaper. "meet us in the room of requirements, we need to talk to you." he said bluntly, his voice not giving away a slight indication of what their encounter might mean.</p><p>"Oh, bring fire whiskey!" James ordered, causing Peter to press his hand up against his forehead in tension.</p><p>"Why do you have to make everything so....<em>reckless</em>?"</p><p>"Come on," Sirius groaned, his voice knitted with exhilaration. "It'll be fun." he then added, coming to his best friends defence, as he widened his stormy eyes in the direction of Pettigrew.</p><p>"You're all going to be the death of me," he shook his head comically before nudging Remus, "Moony, you're with me on this, right?"</p><p>Remus' jaw tightened, his mind conversing for a brief moment before he gritted his teeth. "<em>Well</em>, I would like to forget about this last week for awhile...."</p><p>"Yes!" James clapped the Lupin's back, "three against one, sorry Wormtail we're gonna get plastered."</p><p>Alcohol wasn't something to romanticise, Marella knew of that well, baring witness to what its poisonous ingredients did: tainting the mind of her father, causing him to break out in sporadic bursts of violence and anger.</p><p>Not only had his intoxication took a toll on both his mental and physical health, it had affected the people around him, creating a rupture in their family long before it was due. Whilst she had her own opinions on alcohol, the idea of escaping the growing weight among her shoulders for a few hours was something she yearned for; a break from reality she supposed.</p><p>So as she finally sat down in her dorm room, relief bubbling in her stomach to notice Adara wasn't there, she grabbed her secret stash of fire-whiskey — which was still appearing to be piled full of unopened bottles. Arroyo Bardot craved inebriation, and whilst eluding reality could be done healthily,  if it wasn't a common occurrence, he had long past that mark. Every moment he hadn't the liquid running through his toxic DNA, he was an utter basket case — to the extremity that Marella preferred the abusive, angry man he became once drunk than she did the raw mess of her sober father.</p><p>Once she'd slipped out of her school uniform; replacing the restricting outfit with a pair of loose bell bottoms and a cropped band t-shirt, she stashed the bottle in her jacket's pocket, making way towards the seventh floor.</p><p>Under her arm was the book Lily had given her, and since the marauders didn't specify an exact time on when they were to meet, she decided to go early and catch up on some much needed reading. Sometimes delving into a fictional world was the best thing to help her gain back stability, and she was certainly lacking it as of the moment.</p><p>The room had taken form of an ashy log-cabin, with thick leather chairs dotted around the space and heaps of woollen blankets, Marella was thus presented with an ambience she could wind down within — somewhere she could truly unload her baggage. A fireplace stood against the back wall of the room, its vivid orange flames casting long and widened shadows over the rug below. It crackled and spat as she read, heaps of endless dry-wood never wearing down but continuing to feed her body with gentle warmth.</p><p>"Hello! We are here!" A voice called out, disturbing her short hour of peace. Marella merely rolled her eyes at the dramatics of James Potter, slipping her bookmark into the page she was at before dumping it on the table next to her. The four boys stumbled into the room, less gracefully than they'd first assumed — getting into a heated sword-fight, with their ties, on the way down.</p><p>"Merlin I am exhausted after beating your arses." James then called out as he took a seat next to Marella.</p><p>"Actually I'll have you know that <em>I</em> won." Remus responded quickly, throwing James' knotted tie down onto his lap. Joining the pair with a wide smile.</p><p>Sirius' pressed his hand against the wall, pitching into the conversation, though his words were hard to decipher through the pants of breathlessness. "Moony, you were a machine, bloody hell."</p><p>"It was cheating!" Peter called out as he slumped his body down on the floor, crossing his arms in frustration.</p><p>"How?!" Remus' eyes widened, mouth gaping at the audacity of his friend.</p><p>"You're a fucking werewolf!"</p><p>"Would you two stop arguing like an old married couple?" James shouted dramatically, his hands waving in the air as he turned his body towards Marella, "We have a lot to talk about Luna." he said before holding out his hand, "Fire-whiskey please."</p><p>    "You're seriously going to tell her everything drunk?" Peter raised his eyebrows to which Sirius behind flicked him on the forehead.</p><p>"Thats what makes it fun." <br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>𐐪𐑂<br/><br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>—<b>"SO YOU'RE TELLING ME,</b><br/>you spent four years mastering a complex illegal procedure to become an Animagi for a boy you had just met?" Marella slurred out, waving her hand <b><em>(</em></b> which was now holding the nearly empty bottle of alcohol <b><em>)</em></b> in the direction of a dazed Sirius. He let out a nod, opening his mouth to speak, though no words came out, far too drunk to find the right response.</p><p>"That is the most adorable thing I've ever heard." she said loudly, turning towards Remus, who was now laid across the floor, eyes bewildered at a plain white ceiling.</p><p>"The stars are so pretty tonight." he mumbled; a comment only sober Peter could shake his head at.</p><p>    Whilst they were occupied with the Lupin, James had taken this as his queue to clamber on top of the coffee table, coughing loudly to draw everyones attention in.</p><p>"Attention animals and werewolves" he bellowed out, "I want to apologise to <em>our</em> Luna for the prank that fucked up our friendship last year." he garbled on, and though Marella was deeply intoxicated, a sense of regard towards her surroundings began to creep up, brain revving into action. "It was fucked up, and we were dicks. So here's to Luna, my fury friend." he then toasted, lifting a plastic cup in the air, which all the boys followed after, raising their drinks alongside him.</p><p>Though the moment was shortly ruined after Peter crumpled his face, "Why are you holding onto your nose Prongs?"</p><p>"So I don't fall!" the boy answered, steadily removing himself from the table, <em>nearly</em> tripping over Remus' body as he staggered back to his spot. <br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>𐐪𐑂<br/><br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>—<b>DAWN CREPT OVER HOGWARTS</b><br/>with a yellow-tinted sun, smoothening out the contours of the room. The same room which had been engulfed in darkness as night reigned. Now the sky had softened into blue, bidding goodbye to the moon as sunlight filled the air, shooting itself through the oval windows and thus, carving golden silhouettes into the wooden floor.</p><p>Marella found herself slumped on the sofa: her lap completely taken up by Sirius' head as her shoulders were left immobilised by the heavy body of James Potter. Nascent rays slowly radiated the girls skin, bringing her into alertness as she peeled open her heavy eyelids.</p><p>"Merlin James, I think I've consumed half of your hair." Marella choked out as she shoved away his figure, causing him to go rolling down onto the floor in a loud clutter.</p><p>He let out a groggy <em>ow</em> before pulling himself up quickly, hands flying towards his locks—"What did you do to my hair?" he yelled in a panic.</p><p>"Hair...consuming, <em>huh?</em>" Sirius said in a raspy morning voice, balled fists rubbing his eyes as he pulled himself off Marella's lap. Yet when he caught his surroundings, he quickly turned to the girl, eyebrows raising.</p><p>She only responded with a shrug—"Don't give <em>me</em> that look, you were the one drooling all over me...like a dog."</p><p>"Well, love, thats because I am a dog."</p><p>"I know." Marella snickered under her breath before turning to Remus, who still remained unconscious, his face more peaceful than ever before. "Everyone quieten down," she ordered in the direction of James <em>specifically</em>, who was creating a variety of loud sounds as he pined for a mirror, "Moony is sleeping." after everyone went static, adapting to the early morning and the first signs of a gradual hangover, Marella leant back on the cushioned couch.</p><p><em>Trying</em> to remember the events of the previous night.</p><p>    Whilst she was still missing certain pieces, she'd managed to recall most of the marauders information— from a map which held everyones location, to an invisibility cloak they used to elude professors, she realised just how much mayhem these boys walked into. Intentionally.</p><p>It was after the remaining marauders awoke <b><em>(</em></b> aka Remus <b><em>)</em></b> that they decided to leave; planning to rush towards their dorms and make themselves look <em>somewhat</em> presentable for the day ahead.</p><p>Yet Marella didn't make it out of the door before she was pulled back, a hand gripping her wrist — a feeble attempt to stop her from leaving.</p><p>"Which one is it?" she shifted her eyes, slanting them slightly as she turned to face the culprit. "Ja—<em>Prongs</em>," she corrected herself, only beginning to use the nicknames <em>unironically</em> when they'd refused to talk to her the preceding night. Marella knew they were trying to make her feel included, but she felt like she was overstepping their boundaries, "...whats up?"</p><p>"Look im not sure if you remembered what I said last night, but I am really sorry for the prank. It was my idea, and I've only started to realise how shitty it was. I know we're going to be seeing a lot of each other now...because of er..<em>yknow</em>, and I feel like you're owed a sober apology." he said genuinely, and whilst she hadn't forgotten, Marella felt much more reassured to hear him say it clear-headed.</p><p>Marella had never been the forgiven type; her grudges were strong and sturdy, and never seemed to falter as time persisted, but she was <em>so </em>tired. Tired of resenting the boys she would now have to grow to trust, tired of carrying the fury of their past, so she forgave him aswell as the others. "Its okay, for a long time I held what happened against you and the marauders, and whilst it definitely hurt, its not important anymore."</p><p>James blinked, his mouth parting slightly in shock. "Wait you actually forgave me? <em>Woah</em>...I didn't think it would be that easy." <br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>𐐪𐑂<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>—<b>MARELLA LOOKED LIKE A</b><br/>discombobulated mess, her reflection staring back with wide-eyes. Waves of nausea had crept over her stomach, and the deeply intoxicating scent of alcohol now twisted her stomach in knots. It appeared water wasn't going to cure this hangover easy, and whilst the cool liquid slipping down her dry throat was satisfying, its effects were merely impermanent. Leaving Marella with chapped lips and a desperate need for hydration.</p><p>Her brown hair was tangled in heaps, and had began to carry the strong smell of cheap cigarettes and smoky whiskey within its body, sending her fuzzy flashbacks of the previous night.</p><p>She attempted to paint over the fatigued girl before her, but every strand of concealer that was dashed on her face only caked in clumps, and after an unsuccessful epoch, she took to using magic. Her wand proved to be useful, wiping away the signs of hangover and disguising her internal sicknesses inside the body of a well-slept Ravenclaw. Still, her eyes told the truth, a lattice of pink over the white.</p><p>The idea of now slotting her limbs into a restraining uniform sounded worse than the prospect of alcohol, so she purely didn't wear it, discarding the shirt and skirt combo to her bathroom floor. The risk of receiving detention was likely, but in true honesty, Marella didn't give a shit. It was too early, and the world was too loud, and merlin forbid someone force her into an intolerable outfit when she could hardly breathe in pyjamas.</p><p>Instead, she opted for a pair of washed-out denim mom jeans, a loose tank top and a cropped corduroy jacket which's colour seemed to merge well with the current fashion era.</p><p>She was just piling her hair into a ponytail, considering it too tatty to wear down, when Bridget slipped into the bathroom for her mascara. Her friend was half-ready, with a crinkled shirt only buttoned near the bottom of her body, revealing a lacy bra she had yet to disguise, and her hair still messy from bed. "I don't know how you wear those things," Marella muttered as she passed over the tube of mascara.</p><p>Bridget looked up, twirling the cosmetic between her fingers—"What? A bra?" she laughed out.</p><p>"Yes! I gave up on them a long time ago." she responded loudly, hands busy pulling out loose strands of brown to shape her features.</p><p>"I feel bare without one," Bridget then said as she leant against the bathroom wall, "plus this one looks good on me."</p><p>Marella turned her head around, nodding in agreement which sent the girl opposite into a blushing mess, her cheeks flushing deep rose. "So <em>er</em> where were you last night?" Bridget diverted the subject quickly, her eyesight anywhere <em>but</em> Marella.</p><p>     "Reading in the room of requirements," she said slowly, debating whether or not to mention the presences of a certain group of boys, though she decided against it, knowing it only took one slip-up for them to figure out everything — and Marella knew that wasn't fair, on all the marauders but especially Remus.</p><p>Bridget rolled her eyes discreetly, muttering to herself, "Sure."<br/>▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. luna, my darling</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>   —<b>THE MORNING WAS STILL</b><br/>premature <b><em>(</em></b> arising in the distance <b><em>)</em></b> when the usual three Ravenclaws trudged down for breakfast. Rain had began to patter against the walls of the castle, a steady downfall which echoed the main hall as they entered. There was a distant smell of hot coffee lingering around the room, clashing against the many food variations and thus creating a heavenly aroma of scents among the air. Students were now swept into their own world, far too distracted with breakfast and meaningless conversations to pick up the eminent face of Marella Bardot, giving her time to truly slip into the background.</p><p>    But just as she thought she could idle, let her foggy mind clear up any signs of alcohol still present in her system, her pupils caught a familiar owl sweeping through the arched walls, alongside many others of the same species, all whom were carrying letters and parcels in their claws.</p><p>Ginevra, the Bardot's owl, doused in stormy grey fur dropped down onto the table, greeting Marella with a gentle peck as she left behind a carefully sealed letter. <em>Fuck</em> was all the Ravenclaw could mutter, though there was a sense of relief sparking her chest for it not being a howler. Her eyes narrowed on the parchment, slowly tearing it open with caution, as if something may jump out at her — though she wouldn't put it past her family. </p><p>
  <em>    Marella Cascade Bardot, </em>
</p><p>
  <em>    Daughter, whilst your father and I are still filled with detest due to your recent outbreak, we have decided to be the bigger people in this situation. We have found you a suitor, and a good one at that, who's surname is very well ranked among our community: Vincent Avery. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I want no more funny business with you, meaning I expect higher grades in lessons </em>
  <b>
    <em>(</em>
  </b>
  <em> especially Potions, Slughorn is a pleasant connection to have </em>
  <b>
    <em>)</em>
  </b>
  <em>, to make yourself known within people of your own standard, and for the love of Salazar Slytherin to stop associating with Mudbloods. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>    You are betrothed now, Marella, its time to drop this childish act of rebellion and do your part in this family. We are constantly watching, you can't hide from us. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>    —Cascade Maree Bardot. </em>
</p><p>    Marella stared down at the letter in utter disbelief, her nails piercing crescent holes through its structure. "You okay?" Oscar asked softly, but before he could receive a response, she had pulled herself up, feet carrying her out of the main hall with abruptness.</p><p>"It was a letter from her family." Bridget then said, eyes diverting towards Marella's retreating figure, "God, can those people just leave her alone?"</p><p>    "They're her family Bridge..."</p><p>"And? They're pieces of shit."</p><p>"Well—" Oscar sighed, faced with no counter argument, "yeah....'suppose you're right."</p><p>Bridget snickered, "I'm always right."</p><p>"<em>No</em>...no you're not."</p><p>    Marella didn't stop when her body was met with the bend of a corridor, she didn't stop when the hall completely escaped her eyeview, but she did stop when her pacing limbs made contact with another. Why couldn't the world just leave her alone?</p><p>"The fuck— !" the boy said in shock before looking down at the student; greeted with the burning face of Marella Bardot, who's eyes were now laced with fury. "Woah, hold it right there." he sung out as she attempted to depart, blocking her pathway.</p><p>    "What do you want Sirius?" Marella groaned, her hands beginning to shake as she sunk deeper within a pit of anger, desperate to retaliate. To let out the anger, to release it from her insides and <em>finally</em> feel empty — a sensation she ached for.</p><p>    "Who's Sirius?" he grinned with arrogance, a clueless expression taking over his face.</p><p>    "Sirius Black, if you do not move away from my path, my fist is going to get real friendly with your face." she bared her teeth, eyebrows lowering as she stared on at him.</p><p>    "Kinky<em>?</em>" he tilted his head, but when he received a glare dipped with poison, he held his hands up. "Okay..okay, im done. Whats the matter?"</p><p>    "Black, <em>move</em>."</p><p>    Sirius looked down at her hands, one clenched in a tight fist <b><em>(</em></b> a gesture he knew was aimed at him <b><em>)</em></b> and a letter in the other, though it was more of a clenched ball, crumpled into a creased piece of rubbish. "Ah, the old letter home. What did they do? Threaten you, tell you how much of a disappointment you are..?"</p><p>    "They betrothed me." Marella sharply responded, and while the long-haired boy was taken back at her comment, he wasn't exactly surprised.</p><p>"Who's the unlucky fucker then?" he asked with sarcasm, yet there was a hint of curiosity in his tone.</p><p>    "Vincent Avery." the girl all but growled, a shaky tear falling down her face, not in sadness but insufferable anger. She hated how uncontrollable her emotions were, but being told to hide them your whole life does that, and thus, she felt a pit of red settle in her stomach. Sirius recoiled, knowing the only worse suitor than he was Severus Snape, and that was saying something.</p><p>    Sirius persisted, and whilst he'd taken the hint that he wasn't exactly welcome in her space, he knew she wasn't in the right state of mind to do anything, "Where are you going?" the comment appeared to immensely frustrate the girl, causing her to draw out a long, deep sigh. "You have no idea, do you?" he continued, taking a step closer to her, a subtle smile curving his lips.</p><p>    "How dare they?" Marella shouted, an outburst which caused the boy to flinch slightly, "They just had to wait until I'd hit rockbottom to spring this shit onto me, I've literally just become a werewolf.. <em>A WEREWOLF</em>."</p><p>— she was definitely not talking about the betrothal anymore, and the Black found himself observing the area around them in hopes no one had heard her, but luckily the corridors were empty, students taken to the hall to eat their breakfast. "Im so tired of this universe, can you cut me some slack? Can you not see me falling apart here, <em>huh</em>?" she shouted at the ceiling dramatically before lowering her head, sighing out. "Okay im done."</p><p>    "Did you just....scream at the ceiling?"</p><p>     "I was talking to the universe!"</p><p>     "You're a<em> luna</em>-tic."</p><p>"Ha-ha." Marella deadpanned, her face firm as she spoke out the usually joyful words.</p><p>    Sirius' impressed expression faltered, shaking his head, "That was a good one." he muttered in dejection before turning the conversation back onto the weighty subject they were just discussing. "So what are you going to do about your engagement?"</p><p>     The girl slipped her hands into the pockets of her jacket, finally unclenching them once she realised how pale they'd become. "It doesn't matter, im not going back there. I <em>can't</em> go back there."</p><p>    Sirius didn't say anything more, swarms of students exiting the hall sweeping the words from under his breath, and so the two of them stood there for a few moments before getting lost in the swarm of people, deeming their conversation over. They never talked about that day again, about the rage Marella held visibly, instead they blanked it; burying the encounter deep within themselves.</p><p>It was better settled that way. Soon Marella's problems would become diluted <b><em>( </em></b>anger, betrothal, lycanthropy <b><em>)</em></b>, being tossed to the side and deemed picayune. <br/><br/><br/></p><p>𐐪𐑂<br/><br/><br/><br/></p><p>    —<b>TIME IS UNCHANGEABLE,</b> <b>AND</b><br/>as the hours stretched into days, life moved on, and slowly Marella did too. Many nights were spent lying awake, eyes vulnerable to the naked light as they watched sunrise creep in, and sunset fade out. Fresh bruises she'd gained whilst home began to heal, scabbing over into small minor scars, as they took away the reminder of home — she would never have to go there again.</p><p>    Marella supposed she should be glad, that her lock had found its key, freeing her from the chains of her family, from the lifestyle carefully planned out for her, but she wasn't. There was still a tiny piece of her, a shard of Marella that longed for her parents, that longed to be the girl they so desperately dreamed of, the girl she would never be, <em>could</em> never be.</p><p>The salty wave of truth had engulfed her one late night as she rested on her bed, when her duvet had been discarded to the floor, leaving snippets of her body nude to the January air. Even if Marella cut her tongue out, silenced herself to utter submission, she wouldn't be able to return, the manor was a place she could never step foot in again, and it hurt. The pain of baggage weaselled its way through her defensive layers, striking Marella right into the core, because all she wanted was validation.</p><p>    Cascade and Arroyo hated everything about Marella; whether it be her distasteful fashion sense, tarnishing the families reputation, or her loud voice, which filled every space it appeared in, thus drawing people's attention to her. They didn't want her to be noticed, merely a shadow in the corner they could spin into their toy, but Marella was a fireball, a burning planet which refused to go down without a fight. Her insides were laced with determination and a strong-will.</p><p>And whilst she was all of that, she was also a little girl, the one who'd drew pictures of a family so opposite to her own, who'd taken the fall time and time again for her sister, because whilst abuse was scary, and the hands of her parents did send her into a pit of fear, seeing someone she loved enduring them appeared to be far worse.</p><p>    She wouldn't accept it, <em>no</em>, her self-hatred ran immeasurably deep, but she was brave. Not the Gryffindor type <b><em>(</em></b> jumping into trouble whenever it suited them, fiercely loyal to the bone <b><em>)</em></b>, but the powerful kind, someone who could move a mountain with their hands if needed to, the type which would scavenge the whole earth and back just to find someone close to them, and would prove successful .</p><p>Marella may of believed luck detested her, yet in truth, she'd ran with it her whole life — she and it were one. She didn't die the day her mother's hits became too extreme, she didn't die the day a werewolf attacked her, and she didn't die the day reality became too much for her, too extreme, instead, she kept on surviving.</p><p>    And at last came the night she'd delayed for too long, because whilst she could brainwash her mind into believing the full moon wasn't emerging, she couldn't trick time. So the date creeped up on her like a plague of darkness, and consequently shunned her into a state of shock, a frantic trepidation.</p><p>The realisation hit her in the early morning, when she had just picked up a buttered croissant, her eyes widening as she dropped the food onto the table. "Its tonight." she mumbled out, frozen on the spot.</p><p>    Oscar and Bridget looked up at the same time, their movements fluent with each other as she took Marella's hand, and he broke out into a speech of comfort. They had planned this, organising what to do for hours on end, because they knew she would eventually crack, that the cognisance on her lycanthropy would soon show, and now they got to reenact it, <em>for real</em>.</p><p>Bridget pulled the girl up, ushering her out of the hall as her hand flipped off any nosey students, Oscar trailing behind them, reciting the lines he'd learnt. <em>Yes</em>, they were extra, but the pair felt they owed it to her, later they would have to watch her leave the castle, turning into something she couldn't control, left in the early hours of the morning to pain, and they couldn't stop it, they couldn't prevent their friend from going through immeasurable anguish.</p><p>Bridget had slung Marella's arm over her shoulder now, letting the girl lean against her side as she pulled the two of them along, knowing the state of weakness was an effect of the full moon.</p><p>    They stopped when they were met with a vacant corridor, one far away from any wandering students and laid the incoherent Ravenclaw against the wall, slipping themselves down on either side of her. "You're going to be okay," Bridget whispered before she took to drawing small circles on her palm, letting Oscar take over—</p><p>"I know this might seem scary," he began to say, noticing the white her face had been inundated in. "but you're fucking strong, you always have been. For years now, you have taken extreme physical and verbal abuse, one little moon has <em>nothing</em> on that. Nothing lasts forever, and tonight won't either."</p><p>   Marella had lost all sense of colour, possibly from the moon, or the knowledge of what would occur later, but she just wanted to escape the place infront of her — and by that she didn't mean the castle, or Hogwarts, but the world itself. To step out into the abyss and scream. To yell until her throat went abrade, and her mouth became shrivelled in pain.</p><p>Albeit, she couldn't, so instead, she pulled her weight up <b><em>(</em></b> an action which proved to be fairly difficult <b><em>)</em></b>, and thanked her friends for their continuous support. She would've loved to stay wrapped in their arms, to feel Bridget's motherly touch as Oscar comforted her, but she couldn't. So instead, she made sure the two Ravenclaw's had their breakfast, whilst fretting about the coming night internally.</p><p>They didn't need to know, they'd done enough.</p><p>    For the past month, she'd pushed the<em> furry problem</em> out of her mind, afraid talking, even thinking about it would break her, and as she sat in Transfigurations, she seemed to suffer the consequences of her unhealthy mindset. Now her brain was creating countless graphic predictions of what it would be like: the pain, the image, the after.</p><p>She slipped, something she would later kick herself for, because whilst it was a humanistic trait, her head was a messy place, and it only took one wrong move, one tumble to encounter a dark thought — the type which would be held on her consequence forever, leaving behind burning contrition. <em>Remus Lupin caused this.</em></p><p>She knew it wasn't true, still it lingered, and thus left her with another negative emotion — pure, raw guilt. <br/><br/><br/></p><p>𐐪𐑂<br/><br/><br/><br/></p><p>    —<b>MARELLA FINALLY BROKE AWAY</b><br/>from her daze, turning to face the blackboard in hopes of picking <em>some</em> information up.  Her motivation to learn; that changed, with four annoying boys glued to her side every moment of the day, shoving revision books and class notes in her clutch, she'd actually started to learn.</p><p>The girl had always been smart, for you had to know most of the answers to get a perfect zero — she just never thought she'd need booksmarts. Needless to say that excuse didn't work any longer. The letters across the board in chalk read out <em>VANISHING SPELLS</em>, and after paying attention for a few <b><em>(</em></b> long, in her opinion <b><em>)</em></b> minutes, she found out they were only being taught it on snails, rats and cats.</p><p>But it did make her chuckle — under her breath —, knowing she would finally have something to use against Peter.</p><p>    "This is so boring." the Slytherin next to her groaned, his face smushed in the palm of his hand as he tried to stay awake.</p><p>    "Careful, if <em>Minnie</em> catches you sleeping in her lesson she'll give you detention," Marella kept her eyes directly on what laid ahead, "and those are not fun, trust me."</p><p>    "I believe you." he snickered, ready to slump back down in the comfort of his hand. Though he decided otherwise, turning his head around, and directly staring at Marella — holding a <em>knowing</em> expression. "You're the one engaged to Avery, right?"</p><p>    Marella wanted to slap him, to press her hand against his skin and knock the callous information out of him. But she managed to hide this anger — smart enough to know she couldn't assault someone right now....she didn't have the energy.</p><p>"<em>Meh</em>." Marella knew her sentence didn't make much sense, but the boy had caught her off guard, that and she still hadn't found the courage to write a letter back to her parents, so <em>technically</em> she was betrothed to him.</p><p>    The Slytherin looked on at her, half expecting her to continue, but when she didn't, he let out a careless shrug before diverting his attention to the empty piece of parchment below him. Marella knew she should care about what the boy had just said, understanding too well how quick rumours spread at Hogwarts, but when you're about to turn into a gigantic flesh-eating creature in less than a few hours, your sense off surroundings really begins to blur.</p><p>    Heres the complication, whilst Marella had plenty of time to reinvigorate her little knowledge on werewolves <b><em>(</em></b> her understanding on them being fairly polluted with prejudicial opinions <b><em>)</em></b> she merely brushed it to one side, just as she had shut down every conversation involving them.</p><p>So as she trudged towards the whomping willow, Remus by her side, the marauders following behind <b><em>(</em></b> under the concealment of an invisibility cloak <b><em>)</em></b>, she began to curse herself for being so clueless on what she was about to transform into. Maybe if she had of scrutinised her condition, she wouldn't be feeling so... dismayed. Maybe this process would go a lot smoother.</p><p><em>Maybe, maybe, maybe</em>. It was too late now, the clock had spun, and her time in control was draining.</p><p>"Uh...moony," she asked as they passed numerous empty classrooms, "whats going to happen?" after the question arose, she couldn't help but feel idiotic, but keeping a poker face, she awaited his response.</p><p>    "Well—" the Gryffindor was caught off guard, "do you have any clue on what we're turning into?" to which the girl shook her head, letting out a mumbled <em>not really</em>. "Right well, first its going to feel like all of your bones are breaking...because I guess they are."</p><p>Marella grimaced, her heart speeding in her chest, before reassuring herself with the words Oscar had spoken earlier. <em>I can do this</em>, she thought to herself, because she could. <em>Hopefully</em>.</p><p>"—Then you'll no longer be in control, you'll loose all sense of surroundings, but when you wake up the next day, you'll still be able to recall everything."</p><p>    "Fun." Marella shuddered, her breath catching in her throat from both the lack of energy she displayed and the relentless fear eating away at her organs, leaving behind the empty mess of a child who just wanted to be average — <em>average</em>, she was hardly that now.</p><p>    "We're in this together, okay?" Remus said, linking his arm with Marella's and whilst he was still overcome with shame, knowing it would likely never leave him, he found himself glad. He knew it was wrong, but at least he didn't have to suffer alone anymore, tomorrow when he awoke on the dirty mattress of the shrieking shack, there would be another by his side, suffering just as much as he was.</p><p>And it felt <em>so </em>good to be no longer living in a solitary bubble, and in that moment, with them thoughts, he felt more like a monster than ever before. </p><p> </p><p>𐐪𐑂<br/><br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>    —<b>WINTER HAD SWEPT OVER</b><br/>Hogwarts, making itself known in the form of crystal drops upon branches, and cold, bitter drafts. The time when students took to wearing thick, cotton laced coats, afraid the weather might freeze their body into ice. Scotland hosted a glacial February, and the extended nights meant Marella had missed dinner, so as she turned into a werewolf, students were chattering away, the biggest thing on their mind being their overdue homework. </p><p>Marella stepped outside, and it was then when everything hit her, everyone copes in their own way, and it had taken the girl up until her transformation to truly realise what was about to happen to her. <em>Bittersweet</em>, she deemed it, because at least now she knew she wasn't broken, a figure slowly turning numb, but she couldn't mourn, <em>no</em> there wasn't enough time.</p><p>    When they reached the shrieking shack, the marauders pulled off the cloak, making themselves known to the pair. But as Sirius took to Marella's side, he looked down at her and felt a sinking feeling within him, so heavy it could drag him into the ground. "Are you okay?" he asked quickly, concernment visible.</p><p>Her eyes were wide, her cracked lips parted and all she could do was shake her head, no words, but then again, what did he expect?</p><p><b><em>(</em></b> The marauders had gotten inside the whomping willow at curtsy of <em>rat</em> Peter. He took to turning into his animagi form, animal body small enough to deactivate the trees ruthless behaviour; and thus, standing before them, was an immobilised entrance they could get through. <b><em>)</em></b></p><p>    She knew it would hurt, that had been expected, but to feel every single one of her bones snap and bend, each singular movement imprinting itself into her mind, was a new type of torture, the pain being so agonising Marella struggled to even scream. Every limb her body joined with cracked and fizzled, and the last memory she held in sanity was seeing the boy next to her, he mirroring her own movements, feeling the same pain, turning into the same creature.</p><p>Dolour swallowed her whole, and as night bathed the school, she turned into something entirely scarring. Faced with the wrath of crooked and maimed bones.</p><p>Her last thought, however, was a little different, "Ah shit, I still need to write to my parents."<br/>▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃<br/><br/><br/><br/></p><p>
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